Sam's Guardian
by Jada17
Summary: Mist has been protecting him his whole life but after Dean and Castiel are sent to purgatory, Sam has lost his way. Can she help him now? Together, can they bring Dean and Cas back? But the biggest question: Can she keep herself from falling in love with him?
1. Prologue The Creation

_She opened her eyes and the first thing she saw was a bright light, or more accurately, three bright lights. They were shaped like humans; except no face, hair, or skin could be made out. All that could be seen was the blindingly bright light coming from them. They hovered over her, their loud screeching piercing her ears. Her hands flew to her ears in an attempt to block it out. As she did, one of the lights reached out and removed her hands from her ears, replacing them with its own._

_When her ears were uncovered, the screeching was gone and it was replaced by the melodious tones of mysterious voices speaking. Mesmerized by the beauty of their voices, she couldn't understand what they were saying. _

_One started to speak to her and with each word spoken, their brightness intensified. The sound of their voice, plus the beautiful light coming from them struck her speechless. Once more, the light reached out towards her and closed her eyes. Upon opening them, she saw the same three figures but they looked different now. _

_The first, the one who'd restored her hearing, was dark skinned with short brown hair and trustworthy brown eyes. He smiled at her as she studied him. The second had dirty blonde hair that almost touched his shoulders which was combed back. Hazel eyes glittered as a crooked smile hung from his handsome face. She knew from the lines on either side of his mouth, that he did an awful lot of smiling and laughing. The last had light, curly brown hair that reached his ears, and then cut off. His cold, blue eyes were fixed on her with uncertainty. _

_She knew they were not human, no matter how their looks deceived her eyes, they were something else. Something powerful. Every fiber of her being screamed at her to run. Told her they were dangerous, that she didn't know them or what they could do. The one with the crooked smile reached over and placed two hands on her temple and instantly, she relaxed. Her mind still said to run, panic, something, but at the same time, in the presence of these creatures, she was calm and content. Her eyelids got heavy and although she fought it, she ended up closing her eyes. Her mind was blank as she let the blanket of unconsciousness envelop her. _

_ xXx_

_When she awoke, she opened her eyes to see the most beautiful forest she'd ever seen. Well, the only forest she'd ever seen, but it was great nonetheless. _

_Turning her head to the side, she found that she was lying on her back atop a stone table. She sat up and gracefully swung her legs over the edge and onto the cool forest floor beneath her. She wore white cloth, a robe that covered her body from her neck to her knees. She began to walk through the trees, the forest floor would prick her feet every now and then but she didn't mind. It was dark in the woods, and through the thick trees, she could see a few stars shining above her. _

_She kept walking until she reached a large pond. The water from it was crystal clear, the moon's reflection gazing back at her from the surface of the pool. Kneeling down, she ran a finger through the water, causing ripples to erupt, travel to the other side of the pond and come back. _

_A tingling feeling down her spine alerted her to the presence of danger. She stood up quickly, and let her eyes roam, looking for the danger. She stilled every bone in her body, closed her eyes and listened. She felt the air thicken slightly as someone came up behind her. Swinging her right arm behind her, she heard a thud as her elbow made contact with its target. She felt the same tingling feeling down her spine and thickening of air, only this time, it came from her left. She waited for them to get closer before turning and raising her foot, kicking her attacker in the abdomen. She sensed he was still up; she balled her fist and punched them right in the face. _

_She been so focused on the second attacker, she hadn't realized that a third had come up behind her. In the faint glow of the moon, they came at her with a long blade. But she'd be damned if she was about to hesitate, she came at him, throwing him off guard. The moment of surprise was all she needed. She kneed him the groin, making him crouch, and then she threw a punch, causing him to fly back and hit the ground with a thud. Suddenly the dark forest was bright, like it was midday. She saw three figures on the ground in front of her, the first guy who'd come at her was dark skinned with a shaved head, and he was on the ground holding his head. The second attacker was blond, and he was holding one hand over his stomach and other over his bloody nose. Hearing a groan she turned and saw the third guy lying on the ground curled up in a ball, and from she could see of his face, blood was trickling from his nose and into his mouth. "Damn girl, what did you do to them? A voice asked from behind her. She turned around to see two men. The one who'd spoken had dirty blond hair that hung a couple inches above his shoulders, hazel eyes and a crocked smile that hung from his handsome face._

_The other had light brown hair that was cut short and cold blue eyes that were fixed on her. When he spoke, he did so to someone else but kept his glare on her. "She's sloppy." _

_"For her first fight I thought she did particularly well." Another man came out from behind him, this one she recognized, his voice at least. Coming from behind her was one of the men she'd seen before passing out. He had short brown hair, brown eyes and dark skin. The dark skinned man walked over to her and laid a hand on her shoulder. "My name is Joshua." He pointed to the blond man, "That's Gabriel, next to him is Michael." _

_They all looked at her expectedly. She suddenly felt uncomfortable; they obviously wanted her to do something but had no idea what. _

_The one Joshua had called Michael stepped towards them. "Does she speak?" She really wished he'd just ask her something, go she could at least answer; Joshua looked to her and back at him. _

_"Ask her." _

_Michael frowned at Joshua, and then looked at her. "What is your name?"_

_She glanced up at Joshua, who gave her a reassuring smile, then looked back at Michael. "I do not have a name."_

_Michael looked surprised for a moment but quickly recovered. He looked to Joshua. "Shouldn't she have a name?"_

_He nodded and looked at Gabriel. "We have business to attend to. You give her name and train her." Then, he and Michael were gone. _

_Gabriel took slow steps toward her, then circled her slowly and appraised her. As of now, she was, well, ugly. She looked to be about fifteen and had dull, short brown hair that was cut off at her jaw line. Her gray, lifeless eyes stared ahead at nothing. Her pale, scrawny, stick figure that stood at 5"3" was covered by a short white cloth that came down to her knees. _

_He shook his head. What did he expect from them? Michael rarely created beautiful. He created powerful. That's why he was chosen as one of the three to create her. God had chosen three angels to create her: Michael, to give her power, Joshua, to give her compassion and a third angel was chosen in secret, no one but Michael, Joshua and God knew who the third was. _

_He sighed at her stance; she looked like a soldier, standing at attention. Her feet were lined up with her shoulders, hands clasped behind her back, head up and eyes staring straight ahead. _

_"Alright," He sighed. "Come on, kiddo, we've got a lot of work to do."_

_ xXx_

_Several months later, Gabriel circled the girl once more and judged himself on the final product. The girl was now a tan skinned, toned, 5'8' beauty with glossy brown hair that fell to the middle of her back on long waves and she had the kind of curves that made other human women jealous. But the biggest change was in her eyes, what was once dull gray eyes were now wild green and framed by illegally long, dark lashes. _

_The plain white dress she wore before was replaced by a white, floor-length dress with gold around the collar, sleeves and the bottom of the dress. The top of the dress left her shoulders bare, while the sleeves clung to her arms until it reached her elbow, from there the material hung, just barely touching the floor. At the waistline, a simple gold belt complemented her curves, and from the waist, the dress reached the length of the floor, dragging only a little when she walked. _

_Seven old human women who lived in a small village near the ocean had made this dress for her in four days. While the girl was there, she'd picked up three new languages. Joshua had said she'd learn things at an accelerated rate but he still marveled at just how fast she did. In the first week she'd spent with Gabriel, she'd come to pick up some of his habits as well. Namely his sarcasm– which he had a feeling the other angels wouldn't like. _

_Over the next month, Gabriel had taught her how to fight, though she already knew a lot, she was sloppy. In comparison, she fought better than most human men, but by angel standards, she was a sitting duck. As usual, the girl– Mist as he soon came to call her– learned quickly and soon, she was as good as the best fighters in heaven. But teaching her to use her power proved to be much more difficult. _

_When Michael and Joshua created this girl, Gabriel soon found that they had created her with far too much power. She was just as strong as an angel, if not stronger, and that in itself was dangerous. He taught her to use and control the angelic part of her power, but there was– deep inside, in the core of her power– something much more dangerous, something that would not be controlled. It was another part of her magic; he assumed that part of her power was given to her by the mysterious third angel that helped create her. That section of her power was foreign to him and he had no idea how to begin to teach her how to use it. _

_After weeks of trying to destroy the dangerous part of her power, an idea came to him. Gabriel put a block on those parts of her power that threatened to take her over. So while he taught her to use her other abilities, her other powers would be in check._

_Joshua explained the dos and don'ts when it came to guarding her charge. Do, care for them, love them, learn their personalities, and protect them with your last breath in life or death situations. Don't; let your presence be known to anyone, lose them, and most of all, don't fall in love with them. Because when you let a powerful emotion like love cloud your judgment, you don't think clearly and your actions not be what's in the best interest of them. _

_One day, Joshua came to her and told her what she was. She was the very first Guardian, the first of many to come. He told her that some humans in the future would need extra protection, someone there to watch over them at all times. And these Guardians were it. But Joshua made it clear that although she would, eventually, leave and be sent to earth to protect her charge, she'd have to stay in heaven until she could control her power. Till that moment, she'd remain where she was. _

_Hundreds of thousands of years passed as Gabriel and Mist continued to train together. Over the years, as new Guardians were created, they were trained to use their power– though none were ever made as powerful as Mist– and protect their charges. As each Guardian was sent down to earth and received their charges, they came to be known as Guardian Angels._

_ xXx_

_In July of 1982, Mist was assigned her charge. Mist was to protect the mother carrying the child until he was born, and then protect him. This was exactly what she did. Over the next ten months, Mist remained with Mary Winchester until the night her husband, John, took her to the hospital, on May 2__nd__, 1983. From then on, Sam Winchester was watched over and protected by the most powerful Guardian in history. Mist swore an oath that night that she would always be there for him. _

_The first disaster occurred when Sam was six months old. _

_Mist watched as Mary brought Sam's older brother, Dean, into the nursery to say goodnight. Each kissed the baby on the forehead. John came in a few minutes later and a four year old Dean ran and jumped into his arms. Mist smiled as she was the affection this family shared for each other. They left the room to go to bed, leaving the nursery door open a crack. _

_Mist sat in the chair next to Sam's crib, watching him wiggle around. After Sam had fallen asleep for a few hours, he awoke and started to fuss. Not wanting to disturb John and Mary, Mist let herself become visible for a few minutes. She quietly walked to the dresser and took a folded blue blanket off the top. When she came back to the crib, Sam's brown eyes looked up at her, curiosity clearly visible in them. She put the blanket over him and tucked it under him. _

_After a few minutes, Mist became invisible once more. For fear that Mary or John, or even Dean, would come in and find a strange young woman in Sam's nursery. She could sense John downstairs, asleep on the recliner in front of the TV, Mary was deep in sleep across the hall and Dean was in his room, snoozing peacefully. Overall, everything was peaceful. _

_Then the clock stopped. _

_She felt the familiar tingling sensation down her spine, alerting her to danger. She rose from her seat on the window sill and stood in front of Sam's crib. In the blink of an eye, a demon appeared in the doorway. He walked forward, straight to the crib. But upon getting two three feet from the crib, Mist lifted her hand and sent him flying back with her power. He stood back up and looked around. The first thing she noticed about him was his yellow eyes._

_"Marco." He sing-songed quietly. Mist glared as he walked around the nursery. She walked behind him, reached inside for her power and, channeling it through her raised hand; she called her magic so she could send this bastard straight back to hell. Her hand was now level with his head. She felt the familiarity of warmth flow from her core, down her arm and settle in her hand. _

_But nothing happened._

_ He simply stood there looking around the room, looking for her. She'd been told that there were certain demons that were immune to the power of angels, and since she wielded the power of angels, it only made sense that he would be immune to her power too. But then, she remembered Gabriel saying that she had more power than the angels, a different kind of power. She'd only used it a few times, but she'd killed the angels she used it on. _

_It didn't matter. She'd do whatever she had to, to protect Sam. So she closed her eyes and concentrated. Nothing happened. She tried again, imagining power rising inside her, but nothing. Exasperated, Mist let out a heavy breath. She was about to try again when the demon turned around, smacked her hand away and grabbed her by the throat. He shoved her up against the wall so hard, her vision went blurry for a moment and she wondered how that didn't wake anyone up._

_"Well, well, well," He purred. "What do we have here?" She struggled to escape his grasp but his iron-clad grip on her throat was unwavering. His other hand held both her wrists above her head. She kicked him in the groin but it had little effect; he winced slightly but then gave a stiff smile. "Now, now, play nice. Now, who are you, beautiful?" _

_She tried to speak, but found her airways cut off. He watched her struggle to breathe for a while before loosening his grip, ever so slightly. Gasping, her power began to act on its own, trying to fling him across the room, something to get him away from her. He only cocked his head to the side and grinned. "Are you trying to use your power on me?" He chuckled. "That's cute. But I asked you a question and I expect an answer. Who are you?"_

_"The queen of-" She was cut off by a strange feeling in her head. It literally felt like a cold snake, slithering around through her brain. He was reading her mind and using an angel's power to do so. _

_"Mist," He smirked. "What a name."_

_Mist tried to enter his mind, and succeeded in getting his name, before he shut her out. Mustering up some air, she responded, "Right back at ya, Azazel. What do you want with him?" It donned on her the moment he shut her out, that he had power stronger than that of a normal demon. _

_"What do I want with Sammy?" He looked up thoughtfully before looking back at her with those yellow eyes. He leaned in so close that she could feel his breath on her neck. "It's a secret." Before pulling his head back, he raised his head slightly and smelled her. But she knew what he was doing. He wasn't just smelling her, he was inhaling her scent, so no matter what, even if she used a vessel, he would be able to tell if it were her. _

_He removed his hands from her throat and wrists but she remained against the wall as if his hands were still there. He looked her over before wagging a finger at her. "Now don't you move. I've got plans for you, beautiful." He started to turn but stopped and looked back at her. "And, no waking up mommy and daddy." _

_When she tried to, Mist, unsurprisingly, couldn't open her mouth. He smirked and made his way to Sam's crib. Her heart pounded so loudly, Mist was surprised that it hadn't woken anyone up. Sam began to fuss as the Azazel leaned over his crib. It gave her an idea. Closing her eyes, Mist concentrated on the baby monitor that sat on top of the dresser, the other one lay next to Mary's head on the nightstand. She couldn't do much, with Azazel's power covering her own, but she managed to make some static. As an answer to her silent prayers, Mary got out of bed and walked across the hall, into the nursery. _

_Mist was still against the wall, but behind the door, where a half-asleep Mary couldn't see her. "John, is he hungry?" _

_Keeping his head turned, the demon stayed realized as he turned his head to the side. "Shh," _

_"Alright," She shrugged, left the room and walked down the hall, taking Mist's hopes with her. _

_Over the crib, Azazel did something, the turned to face Mist. He sauntered over and grabbed her arm, yanking her from the wall. "Now what should we do?" His yellow eyes looked over her body as if she weren't wearing a thing, instead of the blue jeans, black tank top and black boots she wore. _

_"Sammy!" They both turned their heads to see Mary running down the hall and into the nursery. _

_"Mary, he's a de-" Azazel backhanded her and with the flick of his wrist, sent her flying into the wall. _

_The last thing she heard before blacking out, was the scream erupting from Mary's throat as the demon killed her. _

_When she awoke, Mist was strapped to t a stretcher and several EMT's were wheeling her into the back of an ambulance. She turned her head to the side, searching for Sam. She smiled sadly when she saw them. John Winchester held Sam in his arms while Dean leaned against him. She smiled at Sam before the doors of the ambulance closed and she was taken to Lawrence Medical Hospital. _

_The doctors at the hospital were dumbfounded. When the EMT's called, they'd said they had a Jane Doe with severe burns all over her body, but when the bus arrived, there was not body, no sign that anyone had been there. The EMT's in the back were all unconscious. _

_While they tried to figure out what had happened, Mist had healed and was in the backseat of the Impala, watching over Sam once more. _


	2. The Meeting

Here she was, a year shy of three decades, walking into a crappy bar, close to the motel Sam was staying at. Mist had barely aged since that night in Kansas, she'd looked about seventeen at the time and now she looked to be about twenty. That night, she wore the very first outfit she'd ever bought on her own. A pair of dark blue jeans, a deep red tank top and a pair of black hiking boots.

Joshua had called her to heaven, three months ago to discuss something important. Usually, Guardians could meet their charge as soon as they have one. In the history of Guardians, Mist was the only one who'd never gotten to meet her charge face to face. Sam hadn't seen her since he was two, but when she'd gone to meet Joshua, he informed her that as soon as she returned, and came up with a suitable story, she could talk to Sam.

Mist returned the day before, got a few outfits that a hunter would have- and the weapons. The money was courtesy of a wallet she'd lifted from someone's pocket. She spent the rest of the day thinking of her story. She still hadn't come up with her whole life story yet, but she figured she'd wing it.

As she walked into the bar, her eyes scanned the place, looking for him as she walked to the bar. She could sense Sam was here, but she couldn't see him. Using her magic, Mist clouded herself from the humans in the bar. Clouding oneself wasn't like becoming invisible, you could still be seen by people but for the most part, people tended to not notice you. And later, if they tried, they wouldn't remember who you were, what your name was or even what you looked like.

She pulled her phone out of her pocket- another recent purchase. The man at the store who sold it to her explained how the contraption worked, all the things it could do and which apps did what. He called it a Smart Phone. But for the life of her she could understand why someone would want an app that farted when pressed it.

Keeping her eyes down, Mist let her power flood through the bar in search of Sam. From the phone, Mist could see her reflection, and it nearly made her drop the phone. Her normally green eyes were now glowing an eerie orange, like fire. In surprise, Mist reigned in her power as someone sat down a few seats from her.

"Ma'am? Are you okay?" She jumped at the sound of a southern twang, to see the bartender's concerned face as he wiped down the counter. She was still getting used to people being able to see her.

"Yeah, I'm fine," She said. She tried to skim through his mind but for some reason, she couldn't. he wasn't shutting her out, but the shield around his mind was stronger than others. This happened every once and a while, some people were just naturally born with a stronger mental shield. But just to be safe, Mist let her empathy feel him out. He was genuinely concerned about her which made her smile. He didn't know her but he was still concerned about her. Upon seeing her smile, he grinned, showing off a set of pearly whites.

"Alright ma'am. Just makin' sure." He said. His light blue eyes were kind and nonjudgmental as they searched her face. He had short, white-blond hair that was spiked up in a fohawk. He wasn't totally buff, but instead lean, not scrawny by any means. After slapping the rag he'd been using to wipe down the counter, he extended a hand.

"I'm Morgan."

She reached out and grasped his forearm. "Michelle." She smiled even more, if Gabriel could see her now; lying as smoothly as butter, he'd be proud. As she pulled her hand back, his smile never faltered, but something flashed in his eyes for a split second. She wasn't sure what it was, and acted like she hadn't seen it.

"Could I get you something?" He asked.

She wanted to try a beer, but decided against it, seeing as how it would only impair her judgment. "Just a mineral water."

He nodded once, and grabbed one from below the bar. He winked as he slid it to her. "Let me know if you need anything else."

She said she would and he gave her one more smile before turning around and going into the back. She returned her focus to finding Sam and took another look around the bar. Her eyes stopped on the man who'd sat down a few minutes ago, sitting a few bar stools away from her.

She stared hard for a few moments. Could that really be Sam?

He sat at the bar, completely oblivious to her, seeming more focused on the whiskey in his hand. She began to watch discreetly as he shifted in his seat.

When she'd left three months ago, Sam had been sleep-deprived, but determined. She knew he wouldn't rest until he got Dean back. So for weeks after Dean and Castiel were sent to purgatory, he began calling every number in Bobby's book, shaking every tree until no one answered his calls. He would travel from city to city, state to state, searching libraries for anything that would get him even an inch closer to opening the door. He had even limited himself to four hours of sleep every few days, and one meal a day. He'd had some stubble beginning to show because he couldn't bother with useless things like shaving.

She took in his profile, as she had thousands of times before, but this time, when she looked at him, she felt complete sorrow and guilt. Now, he had a full beard and his hair was just barely passing his shoulders, giving him a mountain-man persona. With such dark circles under his eyes, Mist could only assume that he'd cut his four hours if sleep into one. He'd lost some weight too, judging by the way his clothes were starting to bag.

Those brown, sometimes hazel, breathtaking eyes were glazed over but in them, there was a loss and fear that could be forever alone in the world. After losing his parents, then Jessica, Castiel, Bobby and now Dean; the one who had always been there by his side, no matter what, his whole life, was gone. Maybe forever. And the thought of being alone, truly alone, was what frightened him the most.

Taking a shaky breath, Mist took a sip of her water. How could this have happened? Who would've known that this would happen while she was gone? _Joshua, _her mind whispered. Joshua knew, and called her up there anyway, and told her Sam would be safe. Safe? Judging on the amount of alcohol in his system, she wouldn't be surprised if his body rejected his liver soon. She watched her charge run a hand through his brown hair, knock back the third glass of whiskey and got up from the bar.

That was when she sensed it. She looked around, no one new had come in but she felt their power. The air thickened inside the bar so quickly, even the humans felt it. Whoever this was, they weren't trying to hide how powerful they were, they were flaunting it.

Then, as if he felt it too, Sam stopped at the door and turned around, scoping the bar. Had she not been clouded, she would've been worried about him seeing her, but his eyes slid fright past her. Keeping a keen eye out around his surroundings, Sam left the bar.

"Poor guy." She jumped at the sound of Morgan's voice next to her as leaned on the bar.

Playing dumb, Mist decided to see what she'd missed out on over the past few months. "What happened to him?"

He shook his head. "Don't know. But he's come in here every night for….about two months. Always orders the same thing, doesn't talk to anyone, just sits there. I got him to talk once," He whistled low. "I think he's a few fries short of a happy meal if you get what I mean."

"Why do you say that?"

Morgan sighed. "He kept tellin' me how he was gonna break his brother and an angel outta hell."

She raised her eyebrows. "Wow, that's too bad." She looked over at the door and then back at Morgan. "He doesn't, drive like that, does he?"

He shrugged. "Don't know. But I've see him outside some hotel a few blocks away, so he might walk here."

She nodded sadly, said goodbye to Morgan and left after Sam. Once outside, Mist waited for a couple to cross the parking lot and go inside, then she took a good look around as she walked into the alley. All she needed to do was to find a place where no one could see her so she could shimmer out of there. She reached for her power and closed her eyes as felt pins and needles all over her body. Then, she felt her body launch forward. When she opened her eyes she stood in the parking lot of Sam's hotel.

A tingling feeling made its way down her spine as a dark cloud traveled past her and to the Impala. She frowned as it began to swirl around and take the shape of a man. Held in black ponytail, he had long, ebony black hair that came down to his waist. His gray eyes watched the night sky as the clouds parted. In the moon's dim light, his eyes seemed to glow an eerie silver, and his skin, in contrast to his black hair, appeared to glow as well. Other than the eyes, he could've passed for a human.

This was exactly what he wanted.

_A Shade, _she thought. This one started to walk towards Sam's door, making her heartbeat pound in her ears. This wasn't right. This wasn't how Shades hunted. Shades would get to know their victims, make them fall in love with them and when they did, The Shade would literally rip out their victim's heart and devour it. But Shades usually got to know their victims for at least six months, the patient ones waited years, before taking their hearts. But this one wasn't following the same pattern. She would've known if her charge was being tracked by a Shade.

Her eyes widened when he turned his head, looking around. She couldn't let this Shade get to Sam. This wasn't just any Shade; the tattoo of the triple crescent moon on his forehead told her that this was Morpheus, the very first Shade, the Alpha.

Mist had heard awful rumors about Morpheus. How he tortured his victims, and mercilessly play mind games with them; taking away their senses, plunging them into darkness, he'd create illusions of loved ones passed only to rip them apart. He wouldn't kill his victims, not until they begged for death to come, and even then, since he had the power to restore life, he'd bring them to the brink of death, only to bring them back, completely healed so he could start again. only when he got tired of them, would Morpheus kill them permanently. Other rumors about the ones he took as mates were worse.

She let herself become visible as she walked towards Sam's room. Using a small bit of her power, Mist kept her mind's eye on the Shade, while she looked straight ahead at Sam's door. As long as she used minimal magic while visible, Morpheus wouldn't be able to sense that she wasn't human- or how powerful she was. She knocked on the door and nervously awaited his answer.

Behind her, Mist could feel the Shade watching her in curiosity. Then he did something unexpected. He laughed. _She _could hear him clear as day, but to the normal human, which he thought she was, it sounded more like a groan traveling through the wind. The kind that could just be the wind, or maybe, just maybe, something else. Mist narrowed her eyes and looked from one side to the other, then behind her. He smirked as she made her eyes slide on past him.

Since her focus had been on the Shade behind her, that when the door opened behind her, she nearly jumped out of her skin. She whirled around to see her charge, wearing jeans and a wife beater, looking down at her.

He didn't even have time to wonder what was going on before she embraced him in a meaningful hug. His large hands patted her back awkwardly, as she held him. Pulling away, she rested her hands on his arms to steady herself and look into his eyes, his long brown hair framing the confusion.

"Hey Sam!" She said. "It's been a while, huh?" He narrowed his eyes at her. She was beginning to think he might shut the door in her face, when his frown erupted into a smile that hung crookedly from his face. Then she remembered he was drunk. She sighed and pushed him back into the room, coming in and closing the door behind her. "Drinking, Sammy, really?"

"It's Sam." A ghost of a smile crossed her lips. Even through his drunken stupor, he made sure to correct her. She felt a small flicker of hope; if that still annoyed him, then the old Sam was still savable. Looking around, she saw a room that looked like a rock band had trashed. Empty whiskey bottles lined the bed and dozens of beer cans surrounded the trash can.

"Who're you?" Sam slurred, reaching into his bag and pulling out another whiskey bottle. He took off the cap and took a swig, not bothering with a glass. He motioned to her with the bottle, offering her some. She shook her head and he shrugged, taking one last drink before outing it down.

"Sam," She picked up an empty liquor bottle from the bed. "You've gotta stop this."

"Stop what?" He mumbled darkly, opening his dad's journal. Even though she'd been there when it happened, she still couldn't quite get her mind to accept the reality of just how badly Dean and Castiel's disappearance had affected him. He was so lost, he didn't even care that a total stranger, who could be any number of things, had walked right into his hotel room. He hadn't even tested her to see if she were something supernatural.

She tossed the bottle into the garbage and walked over to the table where Sam sat. she knelt down next to him, resting her hands on his knee. He didn't look away from the journal. She took his face in her hands and brought her lips to his forehead. A blindingly bright light filled the room as she let her power enter his system and detox him.

When her lips left his skin, Sam fell forward into her arms, unconscious. She channeled her magic into her strength so she could lift him to the bed. Once there, Sam would groan every now and then as her power cleaned him up. Through the Bond, Mist could feel how much her power hurt; it was like having acid poured into your blood and having it pump through your body. She went into the bathroom and got a cool, damp washcloth and then sat on the bed next him. She picked him up by the shoulders and lifted him onto her lap. She patted his face with the cloth as his temperature rose and his body began to shake. She wrapped her arms around him and held him close to her as the magic worked its way through his body, reversing all the damage he'd inflicted on himself over the past few months. She didn't leave his side all night.


	3. What the

"Cas! Dammit Cas, where are you?" Dean had been searching for Cas in the dark forest for three days. Half the time, dean wanted to strangle that trench coat wearing angel, but the other part of him knew that Castiel had taken the hell from Sam's mind, thus saving him. Every once in a while, the old Cas would surface, but it was never for long, a few days at the most.

"Ca-" Dean's voice caught in his throat when he saw it.

Whatever it was, it was disgusting. It was the smell that hit Dean first, the stench of rotting flesh. The thing stood ten feet tall with three long, black claws on each foot. The thing was covered in skin, all of which were different shades and textures, sown together with some kind of thick black thread. His arms were thin and lanky. Large hands with long, black curling claws emerged from each bony finger. With his neck so long and thin, it seemed odd that it could even hold up his head. The skin on his neck and face was gray and leathery. Whisps of hair hanging from his head was pure black.

"Son of a-" Dean clamped his mouth shut as the thing turned around and looked straight at Dean. His eyes were pure black. Well that wasn't totally true; black wasn't the only thing in his eyes. It was as if every painful memory, every scared, hurt, angry feeling was falling on him all at once, crushing him. Dean backed up into a tree and slid down to the ground, knees no longer able to hold him up. His heart pounded in his head as the thing slowly walked towards him. The weight of every bad emotion was pushing down on him so quickly, he couldn't breathe, sweat beaded on his forehead and his face paled.

In some small corner of his mind, Dean knew that he should run, get up and start running as fast as he could, but he couldn't. The more he tried to breathe, the less he could. So now, he was doing the only thing, and the worst thing, he could do, the very thing that would get him killed; he was panicking. The kind of panic that freezes your body, numbs your mind and makes you forget everything you've ever learned about turning your body into a weapon. When you can't think and can't move, then you become a victim. This was how panic could get you killed.

The thing came closer and closer until it was only inches from Dean. As it growled, exposing its teeth, Dean's eyes grew wide and a small moan escaped his lips. Each tooth was about two and a half inches long and had been stained red from all the things in purgatory that it had consumed; pieces of rotting flesh peeked from between each tooth. The pungent odor alone, almost made Dean pass out.

A forked tongue came out from behind its teeth and tasted the air around Dean's head. It smiled in satisfaction. Grabbing Dean's arm, the thing brought it to its mouth and smelled it with its tongue. He opened his mouth wide and clamped his teeth down on Dean's bicep.

The panic induced paralyzation was gone as if someone had turned off a switch. A scream ripped from Dean's throat making it completely raw. A low rumble came from the monster as he screamed. It was laughing. He could feel each of its teeth as they penetrated through skin, muscle and cracked through bone. The hunter kicked, punched, and clawed at the thing while his screams enflamed his throat.

The thing took Dean's right arm from its teeth and picked up the other one, ready to bite through that one too, when he screamed, even louder than Dean. The latter looked down to see the tip of a sharpened spear head poking through the things chest.

It turned around, dropping Dean in the process, to see where the threat was coming from. A loud pop was heard from Dean's left shoulder as it made contact with the hard ground. Groaning, he rolled onto his back and tried to get up, but found, with his left shoulder dislocated and most of the muscle missing from his right arm, he couldn't move. He craned his head around the monster to see who'd come to his rescue. Expecting to see Cas, Dean was surprised to find who it was.

A dark haired woman stood before the creature with three spears in her hands, two in her left hand and one in her left, ready to throw. She ran towards the thing and stuck a spear into its leg. It howled in pain and anger as she pulled down on it before ripping it out, only to stab him with it again.

She turned her head to Dean and started yelling something to him. When she figured out he wasn't understanding her, she started waving her arms around and pointing behind him, trying to tell him to run. But honestly, he was so tired he didn't care. He'd lost lots of blood, judging by the amount of it next to him, spilling from his arm and he just didn't know if he could.

Dean closed his eyes. He was on the edge on consciousness and was about to fall, when a sudden jolt of pain shook him awake. Suddenly, Sam's face crossed his mind. Sam as a baby, child, a half-pint teenager. He thought about him being in the world, alone. Dean forced his eyes open and gave a grunt that sounded more like a muffled scream as he sat up.

He sat there, trying to catch his breath as his arms started throbbing even more, it pounded through his body; each bringing a shockwave of irrevocable pain. Dean gritted his teeth and got to his knees, with each move brought more pain. He chanced one last look behind him, to see the woman fighting that creature, before turning and running. He didn't know where and honestly, he didn't really care, just as long as he was away from that thing. Part of him screamed at him for not staying and fighting, but the other part of him knew that even if he had stayed there, in his state,, he would've gotten himself killed- and probably the girl too.

He knew was ready to collapse at any moment, but he kept Sam's face in his mind and kept running. It was hard to do though. With his left hand, Dean was clinging to his right arm, just below the bite, while it hung lamely at his side. Plus with Dean on the verge of passing out, his feet would drag on the ground, causing him to stumble and after a few more feet of running, he fell. Face first into the ground below, Dean could no longer fight off the dark blanket of unconsciousness that had been threatening to consume him.

Suddenly a pair of strong arms wrapped around his chest and started dragging him. He looked up to see who it was, once again expecting Cas, but the pain he was in created white splotches in his vision. A second before passing out completely, Dean heard them say, "It's always wrong place, worst time with you, isn't it?"


	4. Dirty Laundry

Chapter 3 – Dirty Laundry

Mist had gotten up the next day, a few hours after sunrise and cleaned up the room, after four trips to the dumpster in the alleyway, it looked much better. Sam stayed asleep the whole day. At night, as the damage was reversed by her magic, Sam would shake, whimper and break out in cold sweats as Mist held him. At times he would reach out and grab her hand. He didn't know who was holding him but Mist knew that it was his subconscious mind seeking comfort from whoever was there.

On the second day, Mist sat on the edge of Sam's bed, watching TV. She wasn't sure what it was but there was a lot of fast driving involved. That was when she got the idea to get her driver's license. She figured that if she was going to tell Sam she was a hunter, he might get a bit suspicious if she didn't have one.

After looking up the address of the nearest department of motor vehicles office, she marked the whole room with enochian sigils to hide him from any threats. Before leaving, Mist sat down next to Sam on the bed and placed a hand over his eyes, closing her own. She felt her power flow through the bond, linking his mind to hers. The bond was a connection that all Guardians shared with their charges. Gabriel had described linking of the minds as a long hallway. At one end of the hall was the mind of the Guardian, at the other was the mind of their charge. All you had to do was unlock your charge's door and your minds were linked. That way, you could feel what your charge was feeling, if they were scared, you felt it, if they were in danger, you felt it. So now, Mist would be able to feel if she was needed back there at the room.

Keeping her eyes closed, she found the all too familiar path to Sam's mind and unlocked it. There was a slight burning pain in her head as their minds linked. He must've felt something too because he groaned and threw his head to the side.

After walking seventeen blocks to the DMV, she went inside and waited in line.

Two hours and fourteen minutes later, Mist walked out of the building, happy that she'd gotten her new license. She had used a little magic to speed up the process, but no one needed to know that. She looked down at the small rectangular card and smiled. According to her license, Mist was twenty-one year old, Michelle Matthews. She pocketed her driver's license and stopped on the sidewalk outside the DMV. What now? Through the link, she knew Sam was nowhere near close to waking up and it was only three o'clock. So what could she do now?

A smile crept on her face as she got a fantastic idea.

A few hours later, Mist climbed up into her new ride. It was a black hummer H1 with 44 inch tires, 16 inch custom lift and 4-wheel drive. When she jumped in, she smiled as the black lights turned on inside. She paid the man the twenty-five grand he asked for and he tossed her the keys. The man told her how to work the intercom system and spotlights and she was on her way. She looked at the registration and ran her finger over the name; what once read, Rodger Konway, now read Michelle Matthews.

Upon returning to the hotel, Mist hopped out of the truck and walked into the room. She turned on the TV to drown out the silence and sat down at the table between the window and Sam. Propping her feet up on the table, she grabbed her phone and searched for the nearest pizza place that delivered. After completing her order, she turned her attention to the TV, not really paying attention to what was on it.

As she sat there, Mist's thoughts kept coming back to Dean and Castiel in purgatory. She desperately wanted to help, but she wasn't here to help them, she was here to help Sam. But then, all Sam wanted to do was get them back. And it wouldn't be against the rules to just give him a push in the right direction, right? She compiled a list of creatures she knew of that might know anything, on a piece of paper and by process of elimination, began shortening the list.

When morning came, Mist was left with a half of a pepperoni pizza and one creature that could help Sam. And it just so happened, that he had recently surfaced. She borrowed Sam's laptop and looked up some lore about the creature, purposefully leaving the page up when she left for the laundry mat. Judging by the state of his clothes– most everything had blood, mud or reeked of whiskey– she figured Sam hadn't washed them in a while. So she grabbed the black garbage bag from the trunk of the Impala and stuffed all his clothes into it. After checking Sam's vitals, she grabbed the bag of laundry, and threw it into the backseat of the hummer.

In two hours- with a little help from her power- Mist had finished most of the laundry. She actually had fun doing the laundry, she'd seen Sam and Dean do it plenty of times, so she knew how, but she had never gotten too do it herself. The same was true with many things, actually. She'd never done laundry, never eaten- well, anything, or tried a beer. Hell, she hadn't spoken to anyone in damn near thirty years.

She was sitting on top of the dryer that was currently finishing up the last load, while flipping through an old magazine that had been sitting on top of a washer. She was about to turn the page when it fell from her hands and hit the ground. Through the link, she felt Sam stir in his sleep. She guessed it would be ten, maybe fifteen minutes until he woke up.

Hopping down from the dryer, Mist put her hand on the machine and let her power speed it up. After thirty-seven long seconds, it beeped and she began unloading the clothes from the dryer to the basket that'd been left under a folding table. Then she hurried out the door, across the parking lot, and to her hummer. She shoved the basket into the backseat, jumped in and started her up. As she sped down the road, Mist's thoughts kept coming back to Morpheus, the Shade. He wouldn't just disappear like that without taking what he came for. And she'd be damned if he was gonna get Sam.

Mist smiled a little as she raced towards the hotel. This would be the first time she'd get to talk to him- well, sober anyway. She could sense Sam was awake when she was two and a half miles away from the hotel.

xXx

When Sam woke up, he noticed two things that were out of the ordinary, (1) he wasn't drunk or hung-over like he seemed to always be and (2) the room was clean and since he never let any maids in and he'd bolted the door when he came back from the bar, which meant someone had come in and…cleaned?

Taking a second look around, he noticed his laptop was open. He leaned over it and read the article that was on the screen.

In Boyne Falls, there had been two murders in the past week. Sargent Kently, eighty-six years old and the second was twenty-four year old Officer Tracy Mason.

Eyebrows furrowed together, Sam grabbed the gun from under the pillow on the bed. He raised it and walked into the small kitchen, there on the counter was a pizza box with half left over, along with a bottle of Pepsi. Sam raised his eyebrows. What the hell was going on? Someone broke into his hotel room, cleaned it up and left pizza?

Continuing to the bathroom, Sam flicked on the light and raised the gun again. No one there either. That's when he heard the door open.


	5. The Confrontation

"Who are you?"

Mist had just turned around to close the door when Sam's voice came from behind her. Slowly, she turned around and faced him. He held his gun up aimed straight at her. She started to walk forward but he raised the gun a bit higher, making a point.

"Whoa, there Sam." She said. With the one that wasn't holding the basket of laundry; she raised a hand, palm up, in surrender. "Just calm down."

"Who are you? And how do you know my name?" As he spoke, Mist ran through her cover story in her head.

"Sam, I'm a hunter, like you." She reached into her boot and, using her magic, produced a silver knife and ran the tip of it over her palm. "See? Not a shifter." She held back her power when it tried to surface and heal the wound. She was, after all, _human_. And humans bleed.

He seemed to calm down a bit, but was still on guard. Keeping the gun aimed on her, he made his way to the duffel bag on the bed, unzipped it and pulled out a flask. After throwing it to her, she looked at it and smiled. Holy water.

"Drink it."

She nodded. "Okay," She unscrewed the lid, took a drink and put it back on. Then she tossed it back to him. "I passed your tests. Now ah," She pointed to the gun, which was still aimed at her. "Do ya mind?"

He looked at the gun, then back at her. "Oh, yeah." He tucked the gun back into the waistband of his jeans. "Who are you?"

"Mi-Michelle." She mentally kicked herself for almost giving him her real name. She set the basket down on his bed and glanced at the leftover pizza in the kitchen. "You should eat, Sam. You've been out for nearly three days."

When he did nothing, she rolled her eyes, got up and walked past him into the kitchen. She took a napkin from the holder and pulled a piece of pizza from the box, then put on the napkin. Then she walked back to Sam, put a hand on his shoulder and guided him to the table. After pushing down on his shoulder, he sat down. Mist put the pizza in front of him and sat down in the chair next to the window. Pulling the blinds, she looked out at the parking lot, searching for the Shade as Sam scarfed down the pizza.

"Michelle," She looked back at him in surprise. She still wasn't used to the fact that he could see her. "What are you doing here?" She noticed him do a quick scan of her body as he got up to throw away the napkin. He blushed a little when he noticed that she was watching him check her out.

"Well, I stopped by that bar down the street a few days ago after a hunt, and you were there," She leaned back in the chair. "Completely drunk, by the way. I was worried about you driving home in your state."

"I drove?" Sam asked, confused.

"Yep," She lied. "I drove you back here but I didn't feel right leaving you, so I stayed here until you woke up." She noticed his eyes dart to the basket of laundry sitting on the bed. "Oh and, no offense but your clothes smelled like whiskey. So I took them down to the laundry matt. Hope you don't mind."

"No, I, uh, I don't mind. Thanks." He said as he leaned back against the wall.

She felt it. The tingling feeling down her spine. She turned her head towards the window and peered out. There was the Shade, leaning against the hood of an old, rusty pickup. Suddenly he looked up at her and smiled a smile that could only be classified as evil. Her mouth suddenly dry, Mist bit her lip and stood up and walked over to Sam, who was in the middle of thanking her but saying something about her leaving. She marched up to him and, in surprise, he receded until his back hit the wall.

"You're in danger." She whispered, her voice low but urgent. She placed a hand on his shoulder and raised herself up on her tip toes, bringing her lips to his ear. "Just pack up your stuff and drive. I'm sorry I can't explain everything now. We're being watched right now, and probably listened to, so if either of us wants to see another sunrise then you need to listen to me." She whipped her head around and listened. Through her gift, Mist could sense Morpheus coming towards the room. "Boyne Falls, Michigan. You'll find the key to Dean there."

Her spine was tingling even more as the Shade got closer. She looked over her shoulder at the window, knowing that if he were to come crashing in, the window would be the easiest point of entry. When she turned back to Sam, he too was looking at the window, like he was trying to see what she was sensing. She grabbed his chin between her thumb and pointer finger and guided him so he was looking straight into his eyes. Ignoring the butterflies in her stomach, she let a little of her power flow from her and into him, making him feel and understand her urgency of getting him out of here.

"Don't ask questions. Just go."

"Okay." He said in a low voice that sent goosebumbs across her skin, which she ignored.

"Get your things together and go now. Quickly." Mist reached into her pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper with her cell phone number on it and put it into his palm, folding his fingers around it. "Call me when you're there."

She gave him one last nervous smile before backing away and heading to the door. She shut the door behind her and jogged to her truck before turning on the engine. There was someone she needed to talk to about Morpheus.

xXx

As the door shut, Sam looked at the number and then shoved it into his pocket. He started packing his clothes from the basket to his duffel bag on the bed and slung it over his shoulder. When he left the room, he felt a cold chill brush past him. Ignoring the cold, Sam walked to the Impala and drove onto the highway.

He wasn't sure what it was about her, but there was something there that made him trust her. It almost felt like he'd known her for years, but he knew for a fact that he'd never seen her face before. He thought back on what she'd said, _Boyne Falls, Michigan. You'll find the key to Dean there._ Honestly, Sam didn't care if this was a trap or not. It was a lead, the only lead he'd had for over four months and he was going after it. After saving Michelle's number, he typed in Boyne Falls to his phone and followed the directions on it, turning off on the next ramp. Towards 'the key to Dean'.


	6. Old Friends and New Cases

"He's been out for a long time."

"He needs his rest."

"He's rested long enough. Wake him up." A cold hand slapped Dean across the face, making a groan escape his lips as he opened his eyes. He could see two figures above him, but his vision was still blurry; blinking a few times fixed that. When he tried to sit up, a pair of strong hands pushed him back down. He concluded that he was in some sort of cave; there was sharp rocks jutting out from the walls and ceiling.

"Slowly, Dean." Dean looked up and chuckled. There, standing in front of him was a woman with mangled brown hair, pale skin and brown eyes, filled with bottomless sorrow. She knelt over him, arms crossed and concern etched on her face. It was the same woman who'd saved him. She put a hand on his shoulder and smiled. "Dean, you feeling okay?"

"Lenore?" He swallowed. After months here in purgatory, Dean had never found anyone who'd helped them in the past. He looked for Balthazar, Gabriel, hell, even Anna, but he'd found no one. So many questions were running through his head he couldn't think straight, much less voice them. His eyes darted from her to the figure behind her, face conveniently hidden in the shadows.

"We caught wind that you were down here," She said. "So we set out to look for you. And we were almost too late."

Dean remembered the attack and looked down at his arms. His right arm, the one that'd been bitten, was wrapped up in several different strips of blood-soaked cloth from what looked like pieces of torn up shirts. His left shoulder had been set and was looking alright.

He looked back at Leanore. "You dragged me out of there?"

"No. He did." She nodded her head at the figure behind her. They stepped out into the light and knelt down on the other side of him. Dean laughed out loud.

"Hey Dean. Long time no see."

"Balthazar," Dean said. "Well, out of all the supernatural things sent here, you're one of the better ones I could've hoped for."

"Aw, I'm flattered, Dean, but don't get all lovey on me yet." He said. "You've still got a monster after you."

Leanor looked down as she sighed. "Yeah, Abaddon was _not _in a good mood when we left." She looked Dean up and down. "But for some reason, he's taken a liking to you."

"Gee, thanks." Dean said dryly. "Abaddon? You mean that ugly son of a bitch that attacked me?"

_"And they had a king over them, which is the angel of the bottomless pit, whose name in the Hebrew tongue is Abaddon," _Balthazar quoted. "Revelations."

Lenore nodded gravely. "He's the ruler here. I don't know why, but he has taken a particular interest in you. And he won't stop chasing you until he's got you."

"So, what, he wants to turn me into royal monster chow?"

She gave him a small, sad smile. "Not exactly."

"Then what?"

"He likes to play with his victims." Balthazar cut in. "He paralyzes the victim with fear and, there's something he smells on them. Something that smells good to him, and he starts in on them." He took Dean's arm and pulled down off the cloth that was covering the bloody wound, looking it over. "But as you experienced, he doesn't eat them first. He releases venom into the body through his teeth. The venom works its way into your brain and finds the worst, painfully, agonizing memories."

Dean was almost afraid to ask, but even more afraid of the answer. "And then?"

Lenore sighed. "Then those memories are brought to life, you live through them all until Abaddon devours you completely."

"That's why you were out for so long." She further explained. "You were living your worst memories in your head."

The angel nodded. "That, plus the fact that you'd lost a lot of blood. Which you have me to thank for stitching you up-"

"That's not important." Lenore interrupted. "Where's the angel?"

Dean scrunched his eyebrows together. "Cas? I don't know, I was out looking for him when, well, you know. But I haven't seen him for a while."

"Well, then." Balthazar stood up, stretching out his arms. "Let's go find the damned angel."

~The Case~

The phone rang. He waited. It rang again.

_"Sam."_ Michelle's voice greeted from the other line. _"Are you in Boyne Falls?"_

"What was that about back in Marktson?" He asked.

_"Well, gee Sam, I'm fine, thanks, how are you?"_ She said sarcastically.

"What were we in danger from?" He persisted.

_"You. Not 'we'. You were in danger."_ She corrected. _"There was a Shade there at the hotel."_

"What's a Shade?"

There was a brief silence on her end before she answered. _"They're very obsessional creatures. Think of them like an incubus. They make their prey fall in love with them but with the Shade, when victim has fallen in love with the Shade, they get their heats ripped out and eaten. To make it worse, they travel through shadows, which makes it extremely difficult to hurt them, much less kill them."_

He knew she wasn't telling him something, but he decided to deal with it later. "And there was one after me?"

_"Yeah,"_ She said. _"Well, actually, it's still after you. But I'm taking care of it."_

"How?"

_"Sam, Shades are what I mainly hunt."_ She said. _"I know how to track them, trap them and kill them. As we speak, I'm hunting the Shade that was after you. They don't stop chasing the object of their obsession till they get it. So I'm off to stop this one."_

"Alone?" He wasn't sure why, but he was worried about her hunt those things alone. "Maybe I could help-"

_"No."_ She stated firmly. _"No offense Sam but you'd only be in my way. But thanks for the offer."_ After an awkward pause, she cleared her throat. _"Have you found the case yet?"_

She could practically see the frown on his face through his voice. "What case?"

_"Guess not. Find the case, Sam. Good luck."_ He almost hung up when her voice called him. _"Oh, and Sam?"_

"Yeah?"

_"You really need a shave. You can't expect to pass as an FBI guy if you look like a hobo."_ And with that, she hung up. He chuckled for the first time in months as he, too, hung up.

xXx

It had been two weeks since he'd spoken to Michelle. For days after that call, Sam had searched around, calling up other hunters to see if any had ever heard of her. None had. He tried calling her cell phone again but received no answer. Finally, he gave up on trying finding her, he knew firsthand, if a hunter didn't want to be found, they wouldn't be.

After a quick search online, Sam found the case. Three murders in one week; a Sargent Kelly, eighty-six years old. The second was twenty-four year old police officer and the latest one was a forty-five year old man. None of the victims knew each other and had no connection to on another in any way.

Sam had gone to the police station to ask a few questions, after taking Michelle's advice and shaving. Then he stopped by each of the victim's homes, and crime scenes. He found no hex bags and no sulfur, which meant no witches and no demons. He did find traces of EMF at the crime scenes where the bodies were found.

But what was really strange was the causes of death. Each victim was shot by, what the corner guessed were, arrows, however, there was no exit wounds or signs that the arrows had been removed. He said it was as if they'd simply vanished. Then there was the eyes. Each of the victim's eyes were burned, not completely like if they'd seen an angel, but shriveled up inside their sockets. Also, their bodies had been mummified.

But he did have one clue to go off of. On each of the victim's eyelids, someone had carved an arrow on them. He researched the clue and the bodies, until he couldn't stay awake any longer. He fell asleep at his laptop, too tired to carry himself to the bed.

xXx

Mist smiled as he rested his head on his arm, on the side of his computer. She walked over to his side and quietly pecked at the keys, getting to the website he needed to piece everything together. She let her body disappear as he started to stir.

A small cloud of fog flew through the window of the hotel room, and over Boyne Falls. It floated over oceans and mountains, until she reached the outside of a small hut on the side of Mount Everest. It appeared smaller than Sam's hotel room, but she knew from experience that with him, things weren't always what they seemed. As her body formed, she looked around for the one she'd come to see. Trudging through the deep snow, Mist made her way to the front door of the shack.

"Hello?" She called. Receiving no answer, she pushed the unlocked door open and let herself in.

The outside of the tiny house gave nothing away to just how glamorous the inside was. The interior looked like it'd been plucked from a high-end resort. She took a few steps to her left; a hug flat screen TV was mounted on the wall, surround sound and a couple of big cushy couches.

Suddenly, from the room behind her, she heard the sound of a bubbling hot tub. Smiling, she turned around and walked towards the sound and, more importantly, towards the one who lived here.

"It's been years since you came to see me." A voice called from the room. "I was starting to think you forgot about me."

"I couldn't forget you." She stopped, leaned against the doorway and cocked her head to the side. "I need your help."

The figure in the hot tub gave her a crooked smile. "I thought you'd never ask."


	7. Lore

Chapter 7 – Lore

When he awoke, his web page had been changed. Or, he thought it had. He was too tired to remember, but he was sure he'd left it on a search engine. Now it was on a Native American folklore website, specifically on the page titled: Chippewa Spirits. Sam scrolled down the different pages until he came upon one that fit the profile. He picked up the phone and dialed.

_"Hello?"_

"Hey it's Sam." He said.

_"Hey, how are you?"_

"I'm good." He caught a glimpse of himself in the reflection of the window; he was smiling, grinning was a better word for it. He'd been smiling since she picked up the phone. "You?"

_"Can't complain."_

"That's- uh, that's good." There was a silence as each waited for the other to say something. He suddenly remembered why he called. "I think I found what's killing these people."

_"Really?"_ She said, dragging out the word.

He started reading off the screen. "A Baykok. No one knows what it looks like but lore says it leaves an arrow carved unto their victim's eyelids. But get this; it only preys on warriors, devouring their souls after killing them with its club or invisible arrows." He leaned back in his chair as he put the pieces together. "That would explain the missing murder weapons. So how is he the key to finding Dean?" He asked.

_"Baykok lives in purgatory, Sam."_ She told him. _"So if he's out and about on earth then that means someone summoned him here."_

"But why?" He asked.

_"I don't know."_ She said. _"Cause people are stupid. But if he's surfaced, he can get to purgatory and bring Dean back."_

"Yeah," Sam paused in thought. "Wait- how did you even know where Dean was?"

_"I called around to some other hunters when you were passed out for three days."_ She stated. _"To see if there was someone- family or something- to come and get you. They said you had a brother, Dean, and you'd been calling every hunter you know trying to find information on breaking him out of purgatory. So I called some of my contacts, and they came up with Baykok."_

"Why help me?"

_"I've got a soft spot for lost puppies, sue me."_ She said defensively, then sighed. _"I don't know. I just, I couldn't not help you." _There was an awkward pause as scrunched his eyebrows. She chuckled nervously and muttered, _"Well, I sound certifiably insane, good job, Michelle, way to go."_

Sam smiled and shook his head. "No you don't. I, uh, I know what you mean. Now, how do I find Baykok? And force him to get Dean out?"

_"I don't know."_ She said, sounding disheartened.

Hating the disappointed tone in her voice, he racked his brain for an answer to the problem. "I could call around and see if there's anyone in town who might know more."

_"That's a great idea, Sam! You check around and call me when you've found out more, kay?"_

"When should I call?"

_"If it rings, I'll answer."_ She paused for a moment. _"If I don't, then I'm probably dead."_

He couldn't tell if she was serious or not. "Well I hope you answer then."

_"Ditto,"_

"So, I'll talk to you later?"

_"Yeah, I look forward to it."_

Without another word, he hung up the phone and set it down on the table. On this web page, he read that Michelle was right; Baykok dwelled at the entrance of purgatory, waiting for the chance to escape and come into our world. If he could find this Baykok, he could force it to lead him to purgatory. Maybe it could find Dean and Cas and get them back here, like Michelle said.

So Sam began searching and searching for more lore on Baykok but there wasn't much to go on. It was a night spirit, which was why no one knew what it looked like, since it attacked at night, no one ever saw it.

Later that day, Sam called a university and made an appointment with Ms. Kayla Wigwans, who'd studied anthropology of the occult, and mythology. After driving ninety miles, he made his way through the winding hallways, he knocked on her door and waited, eager to get on with this so he could find the damn thing and get his brother back. He sighed as he looked at his watch; he was a half an hour late.

The door opened to reveal a striking young woman, 5'7' on the dot with copper skin that offset her glossy black hair, that came down to her waist in long waves. Her dark brown eyes were framed by illegally long lashes. She wore minimal makeup, only lip gloss, but without it, she looked just as radiant. She wore a pair of gray dress pants with a white, long sleeved shirt that covered everything, but the sheerness of it left nothing to the imagination.

"Can I help you?" She asked politely.

"Yeah, hi, we spoke on the phone, I'm Sam." He said as he extended a hand to her. She shook it, and then crossed her arms over her chest.

"Oh, right, Sam. You're late." He apologized as she stepped back, pulling the door open behind her. "It's alright, come in."

"Thanks," He said, walking in. Her office was decorated with hand-woven baskets, blankets and a large intricately designed rug with different bright colors. Several bookshelves lined the walls, and each shelf on each bookcase was filled books. She sat down behind her desk and motioned for him to have a seat.

"Well, I've got twenty minutes until my next class begins," She said, folding her hand on the desk. "What can I do for you?"

He pulled out the page of research on the spirit that he'd printed off at the hotel room. "I was wondering if you could possibly tell me more about a spirit called Baykok."

She smiled through her confusion and furrowed her brows. "Baykok?" She chuckled as she put on her glasses and looked down at the paper. "Haven't heard anyone mention him in a while."

"What do you mean?"

She looked up at him. "Hm? Oh, well about-" She paused. "I don't know, ten years ago? Two detectives came asking about Baykok." She leaned forward and took a good look at his face. "Actually, you kind of remind me of the older one. You have his eyes."

Sam smiled despite his impatience. Dad and Dean must've been here, course, ten years ago he'd have been away at Stanford. "Weird. So, do you know anything about this spirit?"

"Well, let me see," She leaned back in her chair. "He's a night spirit, but then, you know that." She indicated towards the paper. "Is there anything specific you'd like to know?"

"How do you track it? And control it?"

She arched one perfect eyebrow. "Find Baykok, and control him?"

"I know Baykok isn't real, but-" He was cut off by the professor.

"I never said he wasn't real." She held his gaze. "Cause he is real."

"How do you its real?"

"My mother was full blooded Chippewa. I'm half blood." She stood up and walked to one of the bookshelves. "I was raised by my grandmother; she was the shaman, the spirit woman of our tribe. She would tell me legends of our people like some would tell a child a bedtime story." She pulled out a leather-bound book and flipped through it as she made her way back to her desk. "She spoke often about Baykok. Said that it was important that I know of him."

She stood behind her desk and began to read:

_"Today we came across Baykok, the night spirit of our lands. We had taken a few strong men into the forests near the mighty lakes to hunt. Eshkan was among us, for Eshkan was the best hunter in the village. Eshkan left us to find the beast that our arrows had taken down. Shortly after that, we heard his cries. All of us came as fast as our legs would carry us, but we were too late. Baykok was already devouring Eshkan's soul. Not one could see Baykok with our naked eye, but we could see Eshkan's body quickly dried out and soon became shriveled up. Only Ashkow, Eshkan's brother and our younger hunter, only eleven winters old, could see Baykok's true form._

_ "Ashkow was enraged. With a loud battle cry, he picked up the arrow that was in his brother's back and put it into his own bow and shot Baykok with it. We heard a cry that was not human as the wind swirled around us. And with a loud crash of lighting, Baykok was gone._

_ "Later, Ashkow described Baykok to the rest of the tribe beside the fire outside the shaman's tent. He said that Baykok had thin, transparent skin and fearsome red eyes, glowing from his head. He was a living skeleton._

_ "Ashkow had not killed Baykok, our shaman told us, but sent it to guard the graveyard of soulless creatures, where it would remain forever unless it was summoned forth by one with great knowledge of the spirit realm."_

She closed the book and set it down on the desk as she sat down. Sam looked down at the book, which must have been over two hundred years old, then back at her. "Where'd you get that?"

She smiled. "This was one of my ancestor's journals. The story goes on to say that from the underworld, Baykok learned from his past mistake and made his arrows invisible to our eyes, so they couldn't be used against him again if he ever got out."

"So if he's locked inside purgatory, guarding the entrance, then-" Sam stopped and mentally kicked himself for almost telling her his theory. "Then that would suck. But is there anything in there about tracking him? Or killing him?" She raised an eyebrow. "Just curious."

Keeping a suspicious eye on him, she grabbed the journal. Finally looking down, she searched for a certain passage. Once she found it, she put the book down. "To track one, you need one with the gift. They can-"

"The gift?" Sam cut in. "What do you mean the gift?"

She removed her glasses and put them down on the desk. "Back in the day, there were people who had special abilities, like today's psychics and fortune tellers. There were some more powerful than others. Ashkow was one of those gifted. He could speak with spirits, which was how he was able to see and banish Baykok. That's the only way that Baykok can be killed, by someone who has the gift."

_Great_, Sam thought._ I don't exactly have the gift anymore_. A part of him knew what had to be done, but as soon as the thought of drinking demon blood and regaining his power crossed his mind, he pushed it out.

"But, if Baykok was shot with his own arrow, by someone with the gift, why was he only banished? Why didn't he die?"

She gave a heavy sigh and shrugged. "I don't know. My guess is that Baykok had just fed, on Eshkan, and was strong. Plus, he'd been feeding on the warriors of the tribes in this area for hundreds of years before that, so he had all those souls inside him, too." She glanced at her watch and sighed. "I don't mean to be rude, but my class starts in ten minutes, so-"

"Oh, yeah, no problem." He stood up and extended his hand. "Well thank you so much, you've helped me more than you know."

A small smile crossed her lips as she shook his hand, and then walked beside him to the door. After picking up her briefcase, she followed him out the door. "No problem Sam."

"One last question." She stopped and looked at him expectadily. "How would you go about summoning Baykok from purgatory? In that story, it said he could only be freed if someone summoned him."

"Whoever it was, they'd have to be extremely powerful." She paused. "And extremely patient. A ritual like that would take decades to complete."

He nodded. "Okay, thanks." He'd only gotten a few yards from her door when she called him back. She held out a small rectangular card. He took it, looked at it and then back at her. "Feel free to give me a call, Sam. If you have any more questions." She gave him a sly smile as she looked him up and down. "And if you don't, then I'm sure we could find something to talk about."

She turned and walked down the hall, leaving a surprised Sam behind her. A small smile crept on his face before heading down the other hall and out the doors, towards the Impala. Guess Michelle was right about that shave after all.

He got into the car and pulled out his phone. He started to dial Michelle's number when a strangle wave hit him. It felt as though his insides had been taken out and he was going to collapse at any moment. He looked around as the empty feeling grew.

When it subsided, Sam pulled out his phone and dialed her number.

_"Hey, if you're calling you know who this is and you know what to do."_ He hung up and tossed the phone on the seat next to him and pulled out of the parking lot and towards the hotel. Michelle's words from their last conversation floated through his head as he drove.

_If it rings, I'll answer. If I don't, then I'm probably dead,_

xXx

Mist smiled as she watched Sam near the Impala, a ghost of a smile still visible on his face. She felt her heart speed up at the sight. She'd been arguing with herself ever since she got back from Mount Everest. Part of her wondered if a relationship could really last between them, seeing as how she already knew about the big bad world and could easily protect herself from it. But the other side of her knew it was inconceivable; she was dangerous, too dangerous to be with and she couldn't risk putting Sam in danger when she'd been protecting him from harm his whole life.

But still, that part of her imagined what life could be like with Sam. She could help bring Dean back and Castiel too, and then maybe something would form between Sam and herself. She knew neither of them could be the big house, white picket fence and big slobbering dog kind of couple. But how said to be a hunter, you had to give up total happiness? Why couldn't they find it together?

"Those are dangerous thoughts to have running through your head, love." A thick Scottish accent said from behind her. She knew who it was before she turned around. James.

She whirled around to see a tall ruggedly handsome man standing before her. He had long dark dirty blond hair that hung loosely around his shoulders and some stubble was visible. His piercing blue eyes peered down at her as she walked over to him. But what stood out the most was the thin white scar that ran from his right temple, across his cheek and lips, and ended a few centimeters from his chin.

"What are you doing here James?" She asked coldly. If they sent James, Mist was in serious trouble. James was one of heaven's messengers/delivery boys. If someone upstairs wanted to talk to a certain Guardian, they would send James to get them. But when someone in heaven wanted to talk to a Guardian, it was ninety-nine percent sure that they were to be recycled. A shiver ran over her flesh at the thought of being recycled. Guardians that earned that punishment were either traitors, they had put their charge in unnessissary danger that resulted in the death of their charge or, somehow, the Guardian was, somehow, putting their charge in direct danger.

And since she wasn't a traitor, and Sam wasn't dead, she knew why he was here.

"I'm here to warn you." He said in a low, worried voice. "You're letting human emotion affect you. And they," he pointed up. "They know about it."

"Well I doubt you came here to warn me out of the goodness of your heart. So what else do you want?" She asked.

"Nothing. I just wanted to let you know." He leaned down and whispered in her ear, "Be careful out here, Mist. Better Guardians have been recycled for less."

And without another word, James disappeared and she was left standing alone. The one word kept floating around through her mind. Recycled. She sighed and turned to the slowly disappearing Impala. Just as she began to turn into fog and follow him, someone grabbed her from behind.

Their hands burned like dry ice on her skin. One hand covered her mouth while the other pulled her arms behind her back. She thrashed against them, but no matter how hard she struggled, she couldn't get them to loosen their grip. She tried to use her powers on them, to overload their mind with her power, which would cause extreme pain, lack of consciousness, vegetative state or death after having created a link into that individual's mind. When she made the link with Sam's mind, it wouldn't harm him, but making that link with someone else, in a panicked state, could be disastrous.

Since she was usually calm when she used her powers, it was much easier to control the unbridled power that she'd never fully learned how to control. But here, she didn't have that calm sense of mind, she was reaching for her power out of panic and that was dangerous.

Why was she panicking? Mist couldn't control her power. It was like they'd put a block up between her mind and her powers. She could feel the space where it had been before but she couldn't reach it. Like that feeling you get in your stomach when you haven't eaten for a long time; empty and painful. Just imagine that, all over your body, times a thousand. She was missing a part of her that she'd always had. And it was gone. How could that even happen? As far she knew, only an angel could abolish her power, and she would've sensed before if it were an angel.

The hand holding her arms, let go in favor of snaking under her shirt and across her stomach. She would've, in a heartbeat, elbowed the guy in the gut, and then turned around to beat the hell out of him, but as fate would have it, invisible bonds held her arms to her sides. The hand pressed against her stomach, pulling her to his body, while the other moved from her mouth.

Since she was still on the college campus, she tried to scream out for someone's attention, but found she couldn't speak. The hand that was on her mouth came up to the back of her head and pulled her hair loose from the ponytail. He grabbed a section of hair and pulled back on it, then she heard him inhale, smelling her hair. She was overcome by a sudden feeling of deja vous. She remembered a demon, thirty years ago, who did the same thing.

"Well, well, well." A deep southern accent said. "What do we have here?"

With a deep laugh, the hand dropped from her hair and grabbed her neck, squeezing hard; darkness swirled around her. She tried to fight it off, but eventually, Mist's defenses came crashing down and succumbed to unconsciousness.


	8. Flames

"So where were you when you saw him last?" Balthazar asked. Dean stared , either way it was dark. After a few months, his eyes had gotten used to the darkness and he could see just as well as if he were in daylight.

"Dude, everything looks the same down here." He sighed. "I don't know, we were by some trees."

"By trees…" Balthazar shook his head. "Wow. That helps seeing as how we're in a forest. You really haven't been here long enough."

"Long enough for what?"

The angel turned to Lenore, ignoring Dean's question. "Darling, why don't you explain it to him? I'll search from up there," He pointed up at the black sky. "And see if I can find our wayward trench-coat clad angel." Then he did something Dean didn't expect. He leaned down and planted his lips firmly against Lenore's in a passionate kiss. Dean scratched his ear aimlessly as she kissed him back just as eagerly. A minute later they pulled apart, both a little breathless.

"Be safe." She told him, resting a hand on his chest.

He smiled down at her. "Always." Without another word, he disappeared, leaving Dean and Lenore to search on foot.

"What did he want you to explain?" Dean asked, still trying to get his brain to believe what his eyes had just witnessed.

"When monsters are sent here, we see basically the same thing: a dark forest. And it all looks the same to you, right?" Dean nodded and she continued. "Well, the longer your here, the more you learn these woods. It gets easier to find your way through them."

He nodded slowly, looking around at the thin, wiry trees. Each direction looked the same to Dean as he followed Lenore, who walked through the trees as if there were a path there. After a short time, Dean couldn't help but ask. "You and Balthazar?"

She looked around them quickly. "Yeah."

When he saw that that was all she was going to say, he pressed on. "When?" He thought for a moment. "Why?"

"When? A while after he got here. He was severely wounded and I helped him. And why?" She looked around for Cas before looking back at Dean. "You don't actually see many people here, do you? Actual people, not monsters, but people, like you. When was the last time you saw one?"

"Never, now that you mention it." She was right, in the several months he'd been here; Dean had seen maybe fifty people- and most of those had been monsters.

"It's because they're couldn't survive. They lost hope of getting out so little by little, they stopped trying to live. And died for good."

"What do you 'for good'? Where do you go after this?"

"As far as I know, nowhere, you simply…" She searched for the word. "Cease to exist. You aren't sent anywhere, you just die. But a few of us, we have hope. Some are driven by revenge, some by anger or love. At any rate, it's a form of hope. And that keeps us from disappearing." She turned sharply to her left, putting an arm out, stopping Dean in his tracks. After a moment, she lowered her arm and continued to walk. "Balthazar and I have each other now. We have hope of getting out, so we fight to stay alive, for each other."

Dean shook his head as they walked on. "Huh. Who'd of thought?" Even though he'd seen it with his own eyes, he couldn't quite wrap his mind around it.

All of the sudden, Lenore stopped dead in her tracks and grabbed his arm. Her dark eyes were darting around wildly, from shadow to shadow. Suddenly, she pushed Dean against a tree and turned her back to him, looking up at the black abyss of sky. When he took a few steps from the tree to see what she was looking at, Lenore turned and tackled him to the ground. Flat on his back, Dean stared at her incredulously as she lay directly on top of him. Her face was a mere inch from his as she placed her hand over his mouth.

"Don't. Make. A sound." She whispered so quietly, Dean almost didn't hear her, he had to read her lips to understand what she was saying. She raised her eyebrows and nodded her head once, silently asking, 'do you understand'? He nodded and she slowly removed her hand. She raised her head slightly as leaves were crushed a few yards away.

Dean moved his head to the side to see what she was staring at. There was a creepy hunchbacked figure wearing a long cloak walking around the spot where they'd been standing only moments ago. The cloak it wore dragged on the ground as it walked. Slowly, the thing reached up and pushed the hood of the cloak back, revealing the ugliest thing he'd ever laid his eyes on- aside from Abaddon.

It stood just shy of five feet tall with a large head and small cat-like eyes with the pupils vertical, darted from place to place, tree to tree faster than you could blink. A long horizontal line indicated where its mouth was, and judging by the length of it, he'd say its mouth was as wide as a bowling ball. The flesh on its body was torn and flaps of skin hung from different places on the face and neck. Long arms hung down a mere two feet from the ground, and from them were hard claws that could easily rip and tear flesh.

It covered its head with the hood once more and went back the way Dean and Lenore had come. When it was out of sight, Lenore slowly got off of Dean and looked after the creature, making sure it was gone. Dean tried to get up on his own, but found that when he did, his right arm, the one that'd been bitten, began to throb. When he looked down, he saw that with each thud of the wound, every vein in his arm began to turn black until all that was visible on his arm was black veins. It felt as if someone had poured lighter fluid into his veins and lit it.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa." She knelt down next to him and placed her hand on his chest, pushing him back down. After putting a hand on the side of his face, feeling how cold and clammy it was, she took off her jacket and rolled into a ball under his head. "Don't get up just yet, Dean."

He threw his head back and groaned as the black in his veins slowly started to spread into his shoulder. Gritting his teeth, he tried desperately to keep the scream that was in his throat from coming out.

"What the hell's happening?" He managed to spit out.

"I'm not sure." She picked up his arm and lightly ran her finger from the inside of his elbow to his wrist, then from his shoulder to his wrist. With her thumb nail, Lenore cut through the skin on his forearm and then smelled the blood on her finger. "It's spreading. The poison from Abaddon is spreading through your veins."

Dean didn't respond, he was too busy trying to stay conscious as the poison was slowly working its way through his body. He almost wished that it would hurry up and kill him. Almost. But he forced himself to stay awake.

"Make it stop!" He said through clenched teeth.

She put a hand on either side of his face, forcing him to look at her. "Listen to me Dean. I can't stop it, only an angel can help now. And even then, they could only slow it down. "

"Well find a freakin angel then!" He groaned as the black grew past his shoulder.

"You rang?" Balthazar's accented voice said, slightly strained, from behind Lenore.

She whipped her head around before nodding at Dean. "The poison is spreading. It's already passed his shoulder. If it reaches his heart-"

"Yeah, I know." He said as he knelt down next to her. He looked at the hunter, who was now writhing in pain, throwing his head from side to side and kicking at the ground beneath him. "Dean. I'm going to touch your arm and you're going to feel relief, but only for a moment, then it'll feel as if you've been set on fire. Ready?"

"Wh-" He was cut off as Balthazar placed a hand on Dean's arm. It felt like the angel had poured cold water on a burn. He sucked in a breath as Balthazar removed his hand and Dean looked up at him and sighed. "Thanks-" Once again he was cut off by Balthazar's hand on his arm, but this time, instead of the previous coolness, the touch brought forth a searing pain that froze the scream in Dean's throat. The hot poker that had been sitting in the fire until white-hot, was burning him everywhere. Every nerve, every vain, every piece of skin was on fire.

Just as he was about to scream, a hand covered his mouth, muffling his scream. Suddenly, it was gone. Everything was gone, the flames on his skin, the hand over his mouth, the ground beneath him, the trees around him was gone. There was only black, as he fell into unconsciousness.

* * *

**So I paired up Balthazar and Lenore. What do you think? I was just messing around, pairing up different characters and came up with these two. **

**Thanks for follwing the story! Love you all! ;)**


	9. The Decision and The Amou

He couldn't do it.

_You have to._

It was too dangerous.

_It's the only way._

Dean wouldn't want him to.

_Dean is in purgatory._

This argument went on for several hours, as Sam wrestled with the idea. One part of him knew that drinking the demon blood was the only way to find Baykok, then he could get Dean back. Sam would deal with the consequences of his actions later, all that mattered was getting Dean back. And Cas too.

The other side of him knew that drinking demon blood had only ever gotten him into trouble and Dean would kick his ass for doing it. But Sam would take it. If it meant he was no longer alone, if it meant getting his brother back, he'd do just about anything.

So Sam searched high and low for a demon, which wasn't hard to do. After the explosion at Roman Enterprises, the rest of the remaining leviathan were left limp. Hunters and demons alike easily killed off the rest of them. After that, demons started to get more brazen and began walking around among humans again.

Sam found one, in the body of a young man, no more than twenty. Sam followed him for a few hours, waiting for an opportunity to catch him alone. The moment came at midnight. He walked into an alley with a young woman his grasps. Sam turned the corner as the demon lifted a knife to slit her throat. He came up behind him and pressed Ruby's knife against his neck.

"Let her go." Sam spat. He reluctantly released his hold on the girl. She stopped at the end of the alley and looked back at Sam. "Go!" He yelled. She didn't hesitate again before running. Sam let the demon go and threw him against the chain-link fence.

"Look man, I don't have any money!" If you hadn't been watching him all day, you might have believed him, but as it was, Sam saw right through his façade.

"Cut the crap. I know what you are. And you know who I am." The man's face went from scared, into a flat out smirk.

"Well, lookie here," He said, folding his arms across his chest. "Sam Winchester. What are you doing here?" Sam was silent. "Aw, you're not gonna talk to me, Sammy? You're hurting my feelings." Sam walked a little closer, letting the light from a nearby lamp reflect off of the knife and hit the demon's face. "Ah, the famous demon killing blade."

His eyes darted around the alleyway, as if he were seeing something there in the shadows. "What do you want?"

"What do _I _want?" The demon jumped as Sam took a few steps closer and stabbed him with the knife. "I want you to die." As he lowered the demon to the ground, Sam slowly removed the knife and brought it to the demon's neck.

Suddenly, it started laughing. "You really have no idea, do you?" Sam's brows furrowed together. "They're gonna kill you, boy, no doubt about that."

"What are you talking about?"

"You have no clue, what's with you, do you?" It snickered. "You don't know what you're dealing with. They'll tear you to shreds. I just wish I could be there to watch you beg for death."

Sam had had enough. He pushed on the knife and cut along the man's jugular. Dark red blood began to pour from the wound as Sam put the knife into his pocket. He lowered himself to the ground and hesitated only a moment before his lips touched the red poison. After a mere five minutes, Sam stood up, wiped the blood from his mouth and headed down the alley in search of another demon to bleed.

~Amou~

"Wakey, wakey." Dean felt a hand slap his face once more, forcing him to open his eyes. They were now in a dark, damp cave, and judging by the coolness of the air Dean guessed they were underground. Rubbing his offended cheek, he sat up to see Balthazar on one side and a crouched, hooded figure, their back facing him, a few feet away.

"What the hell?" He groaned. "Why do you keep slapping me? And why do I feel like I just got hit by a semi?"

"Because it's fun." The angel smiled. "And no, getting hit by a semi would be a lot less painful."

Dean looked at the figure standing behind Balthazar and when it didn't move, he looked back at the angel. "Who's that?"

"Yes," He leaned in close, making Dean back up a bit, and whispered. "Now, she's a bit unsightly, but she's also very temperamental, so do us all a favor and don't make a scene." Before Dean could respond, Balthazar stood up and walked over to the girl in the cloak. He whispered something to her and she stood up. Following Balthazar to where Dean was sitting, the girl pulled her cloak tighter around her before kneeling down.

And there it was. Small cat-like eyes with pupils vertical, looked back at him. It was the creature that had followed him and Lenore. The flesh on its body was torn and flaps of skin hung from different places on the face and neck. Two long arms hung down on the ground below them as she knelt down next to him, and the hard black claws rested on Dean's leg.

"Son of a-" Dean was about to yank his leg away and get as far away from that thing as possible. Balthazar put a hand on Dean's shoulder and forced him to remain sitting down.

"_What_ did I _just_ say?" Balthazar hissed quietly. "Don't make a scene." He shook his head and looked over at the creature. "Would you see where Lenore is, my dear?"

It nodded and patted Dean's leg before getting up and walking through the trees. After a few minutes he could see it anymore.

"What the hell was that?" Dean hissed. He looked down at his leg, feeling violated. "And why was it touching me?"

Balthazar sighed. "Alright, one, _she _is an Amou. The Amou are very dangerous, very sensitive creatures that should not be trifled with."

"Sensitive? The thing looked like it could eat me!"

He laughed out loud. "Yes and, she probably could, too. And I think she was touching you because she likes you."

"It- she, what?" Dean looked at the angel, trying to decide if he was serious or not. "Okay- wait. What the hell do you mean it 'likes me'? Is this your idea of a joke?"

"No, that wasn't a joke. And, what part of 'she likes you' wasn't comprehendible?"

"Balthazar." Lenore's voice came from behind a nearby tree. She stepped out from behind it, with the Amou behind her, and walked over to them. "I found him."

"Great," He slapped his hands on his knees, got up and started walking over to her. He quietly went to her side and lightly brushed his lips against hers. "I'll go with her, you stay here and," He leaned towards Lenore. "Explain things, would you?"

Lenore nodded, and as she walked over to Dean, Balthazar went to the Amou. In the blink of an eye, they were gone, leaving Dean and Lenore alone once more. She held out a hand, which he grabbed, and pulled himself up. She grabbed his arm, and looked it over.

"Looks like it's stopped," She said, more to herself than to him. "For now. How does it feel?"

"My arm? Fine." He rubbed his forehead. "My head? Horrible." After a moment of silence he continued. "So, what happened back there?"

"The poison from Abaddon," She explained. "It's spreading through your body. Slowly, but it is spreading. First your veins turn black; you get cold sweats and pass out. Then you'll start losing mobility in the infected part of the body, in your case, your arm. After a while, you'll become paralyzed completely while the poison works its way into your brain. While you relive your worst memories, Abaddon senses your fear; he hunts you down and devours you. Slowly."

"Wow." Dean aimlessly scratched his neck. "There's something to look forward to. So what exactly did Balthazar do?"

"He slowed down the poison, for now. But he can't stop it. He's not powerful enough to completely heal you. I don't know if there's anything that's powerful enough to take _all_ the poison out. Not here, not in the world of the living. But the sooner we get you out of here, the sooner your body can start helping heal the damage."

"But I thought you said nothing can fix me."

"Nothing can. Technically your body won't heal. But if you can get out of here and back to your world, the poison will grow at a slower rate. Your body will slowly begin to fight it off but it'll never be gone completely."

He nodded. "And what about that- that, uh, what did he call it?"

"Amou?" She offered. He nodded again. "The Amou are ancient creatures, made thousands of years after the Leviathan. Amou aren't usually aggressive, but provoking one is a death sentence."

"Why?"

"In scientific terms, they can alter frequencies and amplitude of sound waves."

He stared at her blankly. "I don't think you even spoke English to me."

She gave him a small smile. "They use their power to paralyze their enemies. Amou alters the frequency around the intended to vibrate it to the point of paralysis."

"Then what?"

"Then they eat them." She smiled and looked around. "That one has been following us since Balthazar and I saved you from Abaddon."

He furrowed his brows. "Why? To eat me? Tell it to get in line."

Lenore shook her head. "No, not to eat you. Callie likes you."

"Callie?"

"Her name?" Balthazar said, appearing out of thin air, his voice implying Dean's ignorance.

"So, Callie likes me as in-"

"As in she has a crush on you." Lenore said. "And she wants you to live. Consider yourself lucky."

"Lucky?" Dean's stare moved from Lenore to Balthazar in disbelief. "How the hell is that lucky? You just said it eats people!"

"Dean," Balthazar said, clearly getting exasperated. "The Amou are one of the most dangerous creatures in purgatory, they certainly have the most power-"

"Aside from Abaddon." Lenore pointed out. "And the Leviathans."

"Right. But having one on our side, makes you essentially untouchable to the other souls down here. You know, the ones that want to fillet the skin off your pretty, pretty face." He pointed to Dean. "All you have to do is: not upset her. As long as she's happy, you get to live. Actually, just pretend she's not there, you won't see her anyways, she's very good at hiding. Oh, and don't tell anyone about her- not even Castiel- if word gets out that Dean Winchester has an Amou for a body guard, there'll be Leviathans on you, trying to kill her so they can kill you."

Dean's brows scrunched together as he looked from Balthazar to Lenore, who had an arm around his waist, supporting some of his weight. "Why are you telling me this?"

Lenore's dark eyes looked to Balthazar. He sighed, hanging his head slightly. "Because, she's going to be watching over you until you get out of here."

"What? I thought we were all going."

"I can't. Not anymore." Balthazar said. After seeing the look on Dean's face, he began to take off his black blazer. Lenore put a hand over the angel's.

"Balthazar-"

He took her hand in his and kissed it lightly. "It's fine." With help from Lenore, he was left in the gray t-shirt he always wore, which was completely shredded. From his right shoulder to the left side of his waist, was a large, violently red gash. It looked like claws of some sort had ripped through his mid-section. "Obviously, that's why."

"What happened?" Dean's eyes widened as blood seeped onto his jeans. Now that he thought about it, Balthazar did look a little pale. He tried to bend down to pick up his blazer, but winced and stopped. Lenore rested her hand on his shoulder and sat him down against a tree, picked up his blazer and helped him put it on. All the while her worried brown eyes looked from the wound that was slowly killing him and his silver eyes.

"When I left with Callie to get Castiel, I saw someone following us, your old friend Abaddon. We fought; I led him in the opposite direction and came back here." He covered his mouth as he gave a small cough that soon erupted into louder ones. Pulling his hand away, he sighed after seeing the blood on his hand. "Oh dear. N-" He was interrupted by another fit of coughs. When he got them under control, there was blood covering his hand and dripping off his lips.

"Relax, Balthazar. I'll tell him." Lenore said. He nodded and rested his head back against the tree. She turned to Dean and looked him dead in the eye. "Now I'm staying here with him, you need to keep moving and find Castiel."

"How? Everything looks the same here!"

"I got you as far as I could." She stood up and pointed ahead of them. "Keep walking that way until you reach the edge of the forest, it'll look like the desert. There'll be a few mountains scattered around there, Cas is in a small cave in one of them."

She whipped her head around as Callie came running towards them. She stopped when she reached Lenore and leaned towards her, whispering something into her ear. Lenore nodded. "Okay, I'll hold him off as long as I can. Hurry!"

The Amou ran in the direction Lenore had pointed out to Dean until she disappeared. Dean looked at Lenore expectedly. "What? What's going on?"

She grabbed the fabric on his shirt and pulled him to her. She placed a finger over his lips as she reached into her jacket and pulled out a pure white blade. She leaned forward and whispered in his ear. "Give this to Cas when you find him. Give me your gun; it won't do any good here." She shoved the knife into his hands as he reluctantly gave her his ivory-handled gun. He'd had that gun he whole time he was here, he'd had it ever since his father gave it to him when he was 9. She took the gun and then pushed him back. "Abaddon is coming for you. Run." He started to look around, searching for the king of purgatory when her voice slapped him back into reality. "_Run!_"

"Thanks, Lenore." He looked down at the bleeding angel. "Thanks Balthazar."

The angel merely smiled and motioned him to go. Without another look back, Dean ran as far and fast as he could. Meanwhile, Lenore knelt down next to Balthazar and lifted his head. He covered her hand with his.

"You're gonna be-" She was interrupted by Balthazar's lips covering her own. At first she tried to pull away from the kiss but he wouldn't let her. He wrapped one arm around her waist; the other went around her neck and tangled his fingers into her hair. The two were entangled with each other, forgetting about the world around them, until finally they pulled apart for some oxygen.

"I'm gonna die…again." He said. "But not you. You can still-"

"Still what? Live? If you get to leave, so do I." She gave him her best attempt at a smile. "You're not getting rid of me that easily."

"There is so much in those brown eyes." He said a bit breathlessly, putting a hand on her cheek, his silver eyes staring into her brown ones. She leaned into his touch. "Pity we missed each other when we were alive."

"At least we had this time together." He smiled and held her in his arms as the last bit of life left him. When his head bobbed to the side, Lenore refused to look at him, she remained with her head on his shoulder, clasping his hand. She stayed there at his side long after his last breath had been expelled.

Suddenly the ground shook. Lenore craned her neck around the tree and saw him. Abaddon stood there, all ten feet of him, staring down at her. She sighed and looked at Balthazar.

"I love you, you cocky, stupid angel." She leaned forward and laid the gentlest of kisses on his cold lips. Then she stood up, gun in hand, and walked around the tree. She aimed it at the ugly beast in front of her. "Miss me?"

She fired. A low rumble erupted from Abaddon's chest as he laughed. She then pulled out a black bladed knife, and the rumbling stopped. He glared down at her and she at him. Each held the other's gaze until Lenore yelled and ran towards him, knife raised. The blade she held was forged with Abaddon's own blood, so it was the only thing that would piss him off. She knew the torment that would await her if she did this, but Dean needed time to get to Cas, so she needed to distract Abaddon for as long as she could.

She reached him and plunged the knife into his leg. He howled in pain and picked her up by her hair, slowly raising her so they were eye level. She closed her eyes tightly, knowing that if she looked, he'd take away her mobility faster. So she held out for as long as she could.

Unbeknownst to her, Lenore held out longer than anyone had before, which intrigued Abaddon. Eventually, though, Lenore did open her eyes. The death of every human she'd ever killed replayed in her head, she felt their pain as her fangs sung into them. She felt the panic they felt upon meeting their death. She let out a blood-curdling scream as Abaddon began tearing into her flesh.

xXx

Dean had reached the edge of the forest when he heard it. Lenore's scream chilled him to the bone as he thought of what she was going through. He swallowed back bile that threatened to escape as her screams filled the darkness without pause. Taking a shaky breath Dean wiped at his damp eyes and started running again.

He'd checked three caves already, and fought off four monsters, but still no Castiel. The ground below him shuddered and the putrescent smell of rotting flesh invaded his nose. His breath caught as he turned around and saw Abaddon walking towards him.

"Son of a Bitch."


	10. Baykok

Sam was high with power and, even though he knew it was wrong, it felt good. It felt good to be all powerful again. To be able to do what he wanted without consequence. He had just drained another demon, making this…seven? Seven demons. He waited in the car for something, anything to happen. Some kind of disturbance in the air, but so far he'd felt nothing. After waiting a good hour, he decided to get out and walk around, maybe he could pick up on Baykok's trail.

As he walked, Sam felt someone watching him. He inconspicuously looked around him, darkness, shadows, but overall, it was quiet. But that's what was giving him the creeps. Usually there would be a bar open, people walking home from the late shift, or even the occasional hobo sitting in the corner of the alley. Not tonight, not even a gas station was open.

He felt it. Goosebumps covered his flesh as he neared an alley. He kept his back against the wall of an apartment complex and inched his way over to the corner of the building. When he looked down the dark alley, he nearly choked on his breath.

Baykok, he assumed, was kneeling over the corpse of a police officer, who looked like a mummy, holding him up by his shirt as he carved arrows into his eyelids, using his razor sharp thumbnail. When he was finished, he dropped the officer down onto the cold ground and stood up.

"Samuel." A strongly accented voice slithered through the darkness. Sam stiffened but remained where he was. The creature called to him again. "Samuel, come out into the light."

Sam stepped out into the open, where Baykok could see him. He walked forward slowly, cautiously, until he was within feet of the thing. Kayla's book had been correct in how ugly the thing looked, but the story had understated the severity of his appearance.

From head to toe, Baykok looked like a skeleton with a thin layer of skin draped over it. Whisps of dark hair still remained here and there on his skull. Glowing red orbs sat where the eyes should've been. Covering its body was a plain, simple tan robe; it reminded Sam of something a monk might wear. The robe covered the thing from the ground to the base of his neck, then out to each cover each wrist. Baykok grasped his right forearm with his left hand and rested them in front of his body as he sniffed the air.

"Sam smell of demons, but you not be one. Sam drink de blood of demons so you can speak to Baykok. What Sam be wanting?" He asked as the wind blew some of his hair to the side. When Sam said nothing, He continued on with a hard edge to his voice. "Sam speaks now. Baykok grows bored."

"You can get into purgatory." It wasn't a question. "And I need to get someone out of there."

The thing rasped as it coughed. Or laughed, he couldn't tell which. "Sam be wanting Baykok to take someone _out _of purgatory?" He shook his head. "Impossible. If dey is in purgatory, den dey supposed to be in purgatory."

"Shut up!" Sam hissed. "You don't know anything."

"Baykok be curious. Who be it Sam want back?"

"It doesn't matter, you can't help me. I have no use for you." Sam lifted his hand towards the creature and closed his eyes. He was about to kill him when Baykok rasped.

"_Stop. _Baykok might be able to help Sam." He said, his head down low with his arms raised above his head. "Who be it Sam want back?"

"My brother." Sam replied. "And an angel."

Baykok shrank back a bit. "An Angel?"

"Yeah."

"How do Sam's brother and angel get to purgatory?"

"It's a long story."

Baykok nodded in understanding. "Den Sam wait ere." He turned around and started walking back to the shadows.

Sam raised his hand again. "_Hey! _Get back here!"

Baykok stopped and turned a little, so Sam could see his face. "Sam say it be a long story. Baykok will change and Sam will tell Baykok dis long story."

"You're gonna run."

"Does Baykok look like he can run?" He said, gesturing to his frail body.

"You travel through shadows." Sam said. "I did my homework."

Shaking his head, Baykok walked further into the shadows. From inside the darkness, Sam could hear Baykok's voice. "Sam be wrong." After a few long minutes, a tall, dark skinned man with long dreadlocks came out from the shadows, wearing nice black shoes, black slacks and a black long sleeved button-up dress shirt. "Sam be ready?"

It took Sam a split second to figure out this was what Baykok had 'changed' into. "Ready for what?"

Baykok came over to Sam's side and nodded in the direction Sam had come from. "Come, we walk. Sam talk."

When Baykok started walking, Sam followed, but as soon as he's taken a step, he stopped and looked around. There was no one there, and that's exactly how it felt. Like everyone was gone. He was alone.

Turned out, Baykok already knew of the leviathan's escape from purgatory. And he even remembered seeing Dean and Castiel when they were sent there, for Baykok had been summoned to earth just after they'd been sent there. Sam went on to tell Baykok of his plan to get them out: Baykok would jump back into purgatory, find Dean and Castiel and bring them back. Baykok nodded, and listened quietly. When Sam was finished, Baykok thought on his words before saying anything.

"Dis be a good plan." He commented. "Only two thing wrong wit it." He held up one finger. "Baykok does not be wanting to go back to purgatory forever. To be prisoner in de place he guards." He held up a second finger. "Baykok cannot open de door from inside it unless he has help from Sam and de angel inside."

"What do you mean?" San inquired. "Why would you need his help? Or mine? You're the guard. Can't you get in and out?"

"Baykok knows dis. Baykok can only open de door, but Sam's brother and de angel must find their way to de door first. Den they can go through." Baykok smiled and clapped a hand on Sam's shoulder. "But lucky for Sam, Baykok likes Sam. So he will help you."

"How?"

"Baykok will improve Sam's plan so it may work. Give Baykok a moment." Sam remained quiet as they walked for ten minutes. He thought about how pissed Dean would be right now if he were here. His thoughts eventually turned to someone he hadn't thought of in a while. Michelle. The last time he'd tried to call, he'd gotten her voicemail. When this was all over with and Dean was back, he'd go and look for her, make sure she was okay. And thank her. if it weren't for her, Sam never would've found Baykok, they would never be discussing how to save Dean and Cas.

Suddenly, Baykok stopped. Sam was already a few steps ahead when he realized his companion had stopped moving. He stopped and turned around walking back to Baykok, who smiled and said, "Baykok has an idea."


	11. Cheeseburgers

"_Cas_!" Dean whirled his head around as he ran for his life. That goddamn angel. Dean could feel- and smell- the thing's hot breath as it reached out to grab him. It missed, this time, but it was getting closer by the minute. "_Cas_!"

Out of nowhere, a hand reached out and grabbed Dean by his jacket collar. The hand yanked and pulled Dean into the small dark cave. Abaddon kept running.

Dean looked up from the ground and took a much needed breath. "About freakin' time! I was almost turned into monster chow!" Dean growled. "Where the hell were you?"

Castiel smiled and reached into his pocket, pulling out a rock. "I found this rock." Grinning, Cas closed one eye and held it an arm's length away. "If you look at it for a while, you can see a face. And if you turn your head to the side a little, it looks like the Mona Lisa."

Dean ran a hand through his hair, which had grown considerably since they were first sent here. It was almost as long as Sam's now. He slapped the rock from Castiel's hand in anger. "_Damn it, Cas! _You've been gone three goddamn weeks to find a stupid rock that had a stupid face?!"

"Well," Castiel looked down at the rock, looking very much like a sad, kicked puppy. "Yes."

Dean rolled his eyes for what must've been the millionth time and gave a heavy sigh. "I'm sorry Cas. It was a cool rock." The trench coat wearing angel beamed as Dean cleared his throat. "Did you find anything?"

Still smiling, Cas nodded. "The guard is gone."

Dean's brow furrowed. "The guard? What guard?"

Cas knelt down and picked up a stick. Turning it over and over again, inspecting it closely. "You remember the skeleton? With the red eyes?"

Dean thought for a moment. "Yeah, he was the one who tried to kill us when we first got here."

"Well, that's because we were at the door. And that location is supposed to be a secret." Dean was confused and apparently, it showed on his face because Castiel elaborated. "The front door to purgatory." Now Dean simply wanted to strangle the angel.

"What? Cas, this whole time, we could've been looking for the door. We could've forced the guard to take us with him!_ Damn it_!" Cas reminded him to be quiet, for fear of attracting Abaddon's attention again, which angered Dean even further. Despite that, he lowered his voice to a whisper. "It's okay, we've just gotta find the door, and if the guy's gone, you could just zap us out, right?"

Turning the stick in his hand, Cas started chipping off small pieces of it. "Not exactly."

"Care to elaborate on that?"

"Elaborate." Cas said slowly. "Elaborate. It's an odd word, don't you think? El-ab-or-ate. Elaborate."

After a few moments, Dean sighed and kneelt down next to his friend and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Cas. Stay with me just a little bit longer, okay?"

The angel closed his eyes and breathed for a moment. When he opened his eyes again, they were serious, for now the old Cas was here. For now. "Dean I cannot simply 'zap' us out of here. Not even if we were right on the front step, so to speak. We need the guard here to open the door, which he cannot do because he's out there." He said, pointing behind him. He thought for a moment and sighed. "But, I suppose, if we were to wait there by the door, eventually, he'd be banished again. And as soon as the door opens to let him in, I could get us out."

Dean smiled for the first time in a month. "That's great! Well, let's go find the door then!" Dean stood up and looked around as if he'd see a glowing light, leading them to the door.

"Dean." He stopped and turned around to see Cas standing up. He faced the hunter with sorrow in his eyes. "It could be months, most likely years before the guard is banished here again."

The smile on Dean's face faltered a little but after a moment, it was back, just as bright as ever. "Cheeseburger. That's the first thing I'm gonna have when we get back. No, make it a double cheeseburger with bacon, and a fried egg on top."

The way Dean saw it, if he looked forward to the things that were gonna be waiting for him upon their return, then he would keep that small flame lit while in this hurricane. That one little beacon of light in this dark tunnel would keep him going until he got out.

xXx

"What if we-"

"It won't work."

"You didn't even hear me out." Dean said, irritation lacing his words.

"Because it won't work." The angel responded just as heatedly.

For days now, Dean had been trying to think of ways to find the door, since Cas didn't know, and Castiel was shooting down all his ideas. Right now, they were still in the cave Cas had been in before. Dean had made a fire deep within the cave so as not to attract any unwanted attention from the outside. Dean sat against the wall, with his knees drawn up to his chest. Castiel sat across from him, his elbows resting on his knees.

"Well, we've gotta find the door, Cas!" He stood up and stretched. "And I don't see you pitching out any ideas."

"It's not exactly fun for me to point out all the flaws in your plans, Dean." Castiel said, sounding very bored. "And believe me, there's plenty."

Dean rolled his eyes. "I'm gonna go stand watch. Get some sleep." Without another word, Dean left the angel by the fire and went to the entrance of the cave, hidden in the shadows. He kept an alert eye out as he listened to the screams and growls and moans coming from the tortured souls of purgatory.

As he knelt there, watching and listening, a random thought occurred to him. He couldn't remember what he looked like. Could that even happen? Could you really forget what you looked like? It'd been almost a year since he'd seen his own reflection. He could remember Sam's face as clear as day, but not his own. Even as he thought it, Dean knew it was shallow but still, he wondered.

Castiel cleared his throat behind Dean. He turned from his crouched position and faced the angel.

"Here." Cas dug into his pocket and produced a long-dead cell phone before tossing it to Dean.

The hunter grabbed it and looked up at the angel, exasperated. "Cas, it won't work. We tried it when it _did _work. Remember?"

"Not for that." Cas smiled sadly as he started walking back to the fire. He stopped and turned to look at a very confused Dean and ran a finger over his own jaw. "You could use a shave."

Dean smiled in realization. He slowly brought the phone up, level with his face and looked at his reflection. A heavy beard hid half of his face, and the rest of it was covered in dirt, mud and dried up blood. Peeking through the dirt, dark circles hung below the two hazel eyes looking back at him. He locked eyes with his reflection and stared for a while. He looked like a freakin' caveman. The gaze of his own reflection looking back at him made him shudder. Those eyes that had once shown someone who had endured hardships and pain, but also joy and humanity, now held nothing of the sort. They were the eyes of someone who'd been living with the monsters for far too long. The eyes of an animal.

When Dean lowered the phone, Cas was still standing there with a look of understanding. Dean tossed the phone back to him. He caught it easily.

"Thanks Cas." The angel gave him another sad smile and nodded once before continuing on to the back of the cave. Dean went back to keeping a lookout, watching the dark shadows dance through the trees, a mile or so away. He listened to the sounds of all the demons and other monsters fighting amongst themselves.

xXx

"I'm telling you, we already went down that way." Castiel pointed out. The two had left the cave and were walking through the woods once more. Cas had told Dean that the closer they got to the door, the harsher the conditions would be. When they got closer to the door, there would be no trees to hide behind, no bushes to duck under for protection; just open desert.

"No, we haven't." Dean was getting oh so close to strangling the angel, his hands were just itching to do it. "Cas, no offense, but you've got your eggs a bit scrambled. Plus, I'm a hunter; I know we haven't been here before. Why don't you do something constructive? Like find someone who can help get us to the damn door?"

Cas sighed and disappeared. Dean muttered profanities and continued walking- Cas would catch up eventually. Hopefully. He kept walking until he looked around, only to find that the angel was right. These were the same bushes that's he'd tied a piece of cloth to a few hours ago. He sat down with his back against a tree, closed his eyes and rested his head back on the rough bark. Then he did something that surprised even him.

He started praying. Silently, of course, but he prayed none the less. He prayed for someone, anyone, to help him get to the door. He needed to get there, but had no clue which direction to go. He stood up and blinked several times, blinking away tears of frustration. He'd only taken a few steps when the pain in his arm started up again. He grabbed his arm and held it tight as he continued walking. Of course the poison would start spreading when there was no freakin' angel there to heal him.

Then he felt it. The ground shaking steps of what could only be Abaddon.

Dean started running forward as fast as he could. He couldn't see the thing yet but then, he didn't really want to either. He kept running as the cover of the forest ended, giving way to desert. He had run for at least twenty minutes straight when he was stopped short by a wall of rock. He wasn't sure just how high it was, but he couldn't see the top. Risking a look back behind him, Dean saw the trees shaking with each thunderous footstep. That was all the motivation he needed. He grabbed a part of the cliff that was jutting out and pulled himself up. He struggled to find a place to rest his feet as he searched for another rock to pull himself up.

Dean had been climbing for probably over an hour and a half now; his arms were aching, legs were shaking and his fingers were bloody, which made the climbing about a hundred times harder. He could see the flat top of the top of the cliff from where he hung but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't get his hands to move. Bloody hands were holding onto the cliff with a dead man's grip and weren't planning on letting go anytime soon.

Dean knew he shouldn't, but he couldn't help but look down. Once he did, he instantly regretted it. He guessed himself to be about three miles from the ground. He wasn't sure if it was even possible to climb that far that fast, but then, that might've been the two days without water or food talkin'. His mouth was dry, despite the sweat that was constantly dripping into his mouth, and he couldn't even feel his arms anymore. Closing his eyes, Dean vaguely toyed with the idea of just letting go, but aside from the fact that his hands wouldn't let go of the cliff, he had to get to Sam. No matter how long it took.

All of the sudden, his left hand slipped from the rock. Now all that was holding him up was his right hand.

"_Cas!_" He screamed. "_Cas!_" Dean screamed out for his friend until he was blue in the face, but nothing. No familiar sound of wings flapping, no one was coming to grab him and zap him to somewhere safe. Well- as safe as you could get in purgatory.

Dean mustered up all of that was left of his strength and reached up to grab the rock, but it was covered in his blood and his hand slipped off once more. That's when he started laughing. Not just a normal chuckle, but a full-out, pee your pants, sidesplitting laugh. Why was he laughing? Good question; he had no idea. Right now, it was either laugh or cry, and he sure as hell wasn't going to cry.

"Now, _I _see the humor in your situation, but I don't see how _you _could possibly think this is funny." Dean looked up into the face of the last person he ever wanted to see.


	12. Working Together

Sam and Baykok were back at the hotel, the latter drawing sigils on the wall with his own blood that were needed to open the door, while Sam finished tying up the second demon.

When he finished, Sam asked the question that had been nagging him. "Why didn't you try to kill me? You could've fought me, but you didn't. You listened to me."

"Baykok does not want de spirits angry at him." Baykok answered without breaking strides with his paintbrush. "That be why he not hurt Sam."

"What do you mean? Why would another ghost be angry at you for hurting me?"

He stopped his drawing and faced Sam. "When Baykok was young, like Sam, he was taught about de spirits. Dey not always be 'ghosts'. Dey be powerful beings. Some have body of flesh and bone, some do not, but dey all be powerful. When Baykok be older he become de leader of his people." His chest puffed out a bit as he bragged. "He was de best warrior in de land. No one could defeat him. Baykok and his men went to war and de enemy took him. Baykok's men leave him. De enemy torture Baykok before killing him. When Baykok die, his spirit stay 'ere and be angry. Many lifetimes pass before he get so angry, he begin to take other lives. He absorb dem other souls and grows strong. Then Baykok get his body back, but it be weak, thin and brittle. So he take more souls for himself," He pounded once on his chest with his fist. "To get strong again."

"But- you don't look-"

Baykok looked down at himself. "Dis body be what Baykok looked like when he be alive. De more souls Baykok take, the longer he gets to look like dis." He looked around Sam, as if there was something behind him, before returning his attention to "Baykok can sense other spirits on de different planes. And Baykok senses dat something had attached itself to Sam. It be a powerful being. More powerful den Baykok, more den Sam, more powerful den de demons over dere. Baykok has never sensed a being dis strong."

"Something attached itself to me?" Even as he said it, he could practically hear Dean making some remark as to how wrong that sentence sounded. He looked around himself but saw nothing.

"It not be here now, or Baykok would see it." He nodded. "Baykok not be sure what it is, but it be with Sam for a long time." When Sam asked how long, Baykok turned and looked at him. He looked like he was weighing his thoughts and answered, "Sam's whole life." He put the jar of his blood down and turned back to Sam. "It be done."

Sam nodded, putting aside his thoughts about this 'being' and pulled off his watch. "Give me your arm." When he did, Sam strapped the watch to Baykok's wrist and grabbed the stopwatch from his duffel bag. After synchronizing them, he returned the timer to the nightstand and pointed at a button on the watch. "Now as soon as you get there, press this button. Kay?"

Baykok nodded. "How will Baykok know when to come back to de door?"

"When this," He indicated the watch. "Starts beeping, it means you have an hour to get to the door. Or you'll be stuck there. After a few minutes, it'll stop. But the next time it beeps, you'll only have ten minutes to get to the door."

"Baykok will be at the door before the second beeping start."

"When the watch hits zero, I'll send one of them," He pointed at the unconscious demons tied to two chairs. "To purgatory. Make sure you're at the door- _with_ Dean and Cas when it hits zero."

Baykok narrowed his eyes. "When dis over, Sam and his brother not be coming for Baykok? Baykok will walk away?"

"Yeah."

Baykok stepped closer. "Not de angel either?"

"No, not Cas either."

Baykok nodded and began speaking in an ancient tongue, making his way towards the wall with the sigils on it. As he walked to the wall, he turned to Sam, who stood behind on of the demons. After giving the hunter a nod, Sam stabbed the demon through the heart. The demon flickered a few times before slumping over in his chair. Baykok touched his hand to the wall at the very moment the demon died and what used to be the hotel room's wall, turned into a dark, gray-ish black vortex.

"Baykok sees Sam in twenty four hours." Sam nodded and Baykok stepped into the vortex, disappearing from sight.

_11:59 pm_

xXx

As soon as Baykok left, Sam got an uneasy feeling. He looked around the room, only he and the unconscious demon were there now. That he could see anyways. Now that he knew something had 'attached itself' to him, it felt like- even though Baykok had said it wasn't there- something was there watching him. So with twenty four hours to spare, Sam did the only thing he could think of.

Research.

At first he searched for anything invisible, but that left a huge range of creatures to look through. So he put every creature he could find online, in Bobby's old books, or in dad's journal that could become invisible, and put them all on a list. By process of elimination, he began to lower the possibilities.

Faeries, leprechauns, angels, the Japanese Kitsune, the Iranian Bakhtak and dozens more. Shaking his head, Sam ran a hand through his brown hair. This would take days, if not months to sort through all the possibilities. He needed help. He took out his phone and dialed Michelle's number.

_"Hey, if you're calling you know who this is. And you know what to do."_

"Hey Michelle," He said. "It's Sam, I hope everything's okay. I, uh, I found Baykok. We're working together to get Dean back. He just left to purgatory a few hours ago. But right now, I'm trying to figure out what-" Sam decided not to tell her everything just yet. "What kind of creature this is: some kind of invisible being that attaches itself to someone when they're born. It stays with them their whole lives. And they're really powerful. So, uh, when you get this, I really need you to call me back." He paused for a moment. "I really hope you're okay, Michelle. And thank you."

He hung up and returned to his list. Suddenly a cold wind blew in the room and a bone chilling groan erupted. Sam grabbed his gun and aimed at the empty space in front of him. He reached into the bag at his feet and pulled out the EMF detector. After turning it on, he walked around the room, gun in one hand, EMF detector in the other. But there was nothing there, no spirit anyways. He walked back and checked the door and the two windows in the room. The windows were still salted and the devil's trap was still intact.

Then it struck him. Sam hit his knees as an invisible hand gripped his heart, burning it like dry ice. He could now feel his heart's beating, pounding through his head as the beats became less and less frequent. He vaguely registered his body falling to the ground as a shadow above him swirled. It hit every light in the room, basking it in darkness. A man stepped out into what little light shone through the curtains. He had wavy, jet-black hair and glowing silver eyes that watched Sam with delight, as he struggled to breathe.

Sam attempted to reach for his gun, but was unsuccessful. The man kicked it across the room. "Don't try it Sam, save some of that energy for later." He knelt down next to the hunter and circled his jaw with his finger. "You're gonna need it."


	13. And Then There Were ThreeAnd Four

3:30 am

"_No,_" Dean groaned. "God no, anyone but you."

"God, Dean, really?" The demon smirked. "Dean, Dean, Dean. There's no 'God' down here." He reached down and grabbed the collar of Dean's shirt and yanked him up a few feet. Then, with his other hand, he grabbed Dean's arm, just below the shoulder and pulled him up completely.

Dean slumped on the ground, and tried to push himself up into at least a sitting position, but it was as if he'd given his arms a command they didn't understand, so he laid there, biceps numb, legs trembling and hands bleeding.

"Come on, get up." Dean barely had strength enough to open his eyes and send a glare up at the demon looming over him. The demon simply smiled and crossed his arms over his chest. "You still wanna get to the door, don't you?"

"H-how…did you-"

"How did I know about you and Cassie's plan? To make a break for the door?" He chuckled. "It's a pretty good plan. Your angel told me all about it."

"You're lying," Dean whispered.

"No, Dean, he's not." Castiel's voice appeared from behind the demon. He held yet another rock and was looking at it with his head cocked to the side and one eye closed. After a chuckle, Castiel slid the rock into his pocket and walked over to where Dean was lying. He put two fingers to Dean's forehead, healing the wounds. Then, grabbing the arm that the angel offered, Dean pulled himself up.

"Thanks," Dean looked over at the demon and glared before returning his gaze to the angel. "Why the hell would you bring _him _here? Of all the monsters in freakin purgatory, you brought _him_?!"

"He can help us get to the door."

Dean closed his eyes and calmed down before regarding the angel with a hurt look. "Cas, you're telling me, that the only thing down here that knew where the door was, is him? The demon that killed my parents?"

"You told me to find someone who could help," Cas stated. "And he can."

"What do you mean he can help? He doesn't know where the damn door is! He's lying." Dean said. "He'd help us by throwing us over this edge and letting Abaddon eat us!"

"Dean I'm offended, don't you trust me?" Azazel said with a smirk. Dean sent him a glare, which made the demon's smirk grow. After a moment, his smirk faltered and replaced by a cold, steel-like look. "I don't know about you two, but _me_? I want _out_ of this _hole_! So you two can keep on bickering like an old married couple, or you can shut up and we can get to the door together."

Dean shook his head. "No, you're not coming." He turned to Cas. "He's not coming."

Azazel shook with laughter. "You say that like you have a choice, sonny." Once his laughter died down, he set his cold, yellow eyes on Castiel, who was busying himself by inspecting a button on his trench coat with the utmost fascination. "All you've got is this piss poor excuse for an angel to back you up. Tell me that's not get one, or both of you taken by Abaddon, cause you and I both know it will." He took a step closer to Dean. "And Abaddon doesn't just doesn't just eat. He plays with his food first."

Dean swallowed as his arm began to throb. As much as he hated this demon, he knew with Cas already two-thirds crazy and constantly disappearing, he wouldn't survive another attack. The only reason he was alive after almost falling off that cliff was because of Azazel.

"Besides," Azazel continued. "I know this place, and I know where the door is."

"Fine." Dean said through gritted teeth. "But know this," Dean stepped closer to the demon and looked him straight in his ugly yellow eyes. "When we get out of here, it's only a matter of time before I send you back here myself."

Azazel grinned. "We'll see."

xXx

7:40 am

"I thought you knew this place like the back of your hand." Dean retorted. "We've been going in circles."

"Oh, don't get your panties in a bunch, Dean." Azazel replied. "We're not going in circles."

"Oh really?" Dean walked over to the tree that had the letter "D" carved on it. He pointed at the letter. "Since I carved that, we've passed it four times!"

Yellow eyes gave a heavy sigh and turned to the hunter. "That's what purgatory does." Dean gave him a what-the-hell-are-you-talking-about look. "The closer you get to the door, the more it makes you see things that aren't there. Like that tree. You think we've passed that tree four times? We haven't. There is nothing on that tree."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Of course there is. You don't think-" He looked over at the tree again and his fell open. The D was gone. He turned to the demon and pointed at the tree. "It was just there."

"You're seeing things." He replied. "Now let's go." Cas had disappeared about four hours ago. He'd said something had happened and to keep going and he'd be back soon. Soon, yeah right.

"So how _is_ Sammy doing?" Azazel smirked at the glare Dean sent his way. "Still using his gifts?" The thought of pissing Dean off was getting funnier and funnier to the demon. Dean was fed up. All day, he'd been asking questions about Sam and abilities, know how badly it was irritating Dean. So as soon as those last words left the demon's mouth, Dean turned around and decked him. The force of the hit sent Azazel to the ground. As soon as he started to get up, Dean kicked him in the face and sent him sprawling back down.

"Let's get a few things straight," Dean said through clenched teeth. "Unless it's about getting out of here, don't talk to me." Azazel raised his hands and then ran his thumb and pointer finger across his lips, 'zipping' them. The two started forward once more. A few hours later, they came across Castiel talking a black guy with long dreads.

"Cas?" Dean called. "What's going on? Who's he?" The stranger turned around, his eyes locked first with Azazel before looking at Dean.

"Dean," Cas said. "This is Baykok. The guard of the door. He claims he wants to get us out of here."

"Right." Dean dragged out the word as he eyed the man, not believing any of it. "You're gonna help us get outta here, what, out of the goodness of your nonexistent heart?"

"Sam asks Baykok to come and get Dean, and de angel." The man spoke with a thick accent. "So Baykok has come to hold up his end of de deal."

Dean instantly stiffened. "What deal?"

The man looked at the watch on his wrist. Dean took a closer look at it and sighed. It was Sam's watch, and he never took that off. "If Baykok brings back Sam's brother and de angel, Sam leaves Baykok alone. He may live and neither you nor him or de angel may come after Baykok either."

Dean narrowed his eyes at him. He wasn't sure what it was, but something about Baykok made him wary. Just in case his instinct was right, Dean decided to play along. Maybe the bastard could actually get them out.

xXx

11:45 am

"How far to the door?" Dean asked, looking around the path Baykok had been leading them down for a majorly long time.

It was Baykok's voice that answered. "We might be dere in fifteen hours."

Dean stopped in his tracks, causing Castiel to run into him. "Fifteen hours? How the hell are we gonna make it time when we only have," He grabbed Baykok's wrist and looked at the clock. "Twelve hours to get to the door?"

The dark skinned man turned and looked at Dean. "If Dean had not questioned Baykok, for nearly two hours, we be at de door on time. Dean want to be angry?" He jabbed a finger at Dean's chest. "Den be angry at himself. Not Baykok."

Dean was about to defend himself when he was interrupted. "Why do you insist on doing things the hard way?" Three heads turned back to look at the demon. "There is a much simpler way to get to the door."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Well, if you've got an idea, then please, share with the class. Or shut the hell up and-"

Cas raised a hand, silencing the beginning of Dean's yelling match with Azazel. Then he looked at the yellow eyed demon. "Do you know what can get us to the door in time or not?"

"Harpies."

11:59 am


	14. Shade

2:13 pm

Sam heard a groan and the sound of dripping water echo around the room as he opened his eyes. After blinking a few times to clear his hazy vision, he realized the groans were actually coming from him. Hanging in the middle of the room, Sam's hands were shackled and attached to thick chains, bolted to the ceiling. His feet were shackled too, the chain pulling his feet down directly below him, where there was a hole about five feet in diameter.

His shirt and shoes had been removed, leaving him only in his jeans. He could feel his hair plastered to his forehead by sweat and blood. All along his arms, chest and torso were big ugly bruises. After tugging at his chains, trying unsuccessfully to break free, he figured out where the source of the dripping was coming from. As it was, the constant dripping wasn't water, but blood. His blood. Over Sam's left leg, small incisions had been made through his jeans, none more than an inch long, but they were deep, he could feel it. For each cut, he could feel the crimson trail of blood that flowed from it. His blood flowed down his leg and was dripping off his toe.

"Hey," A weak voice called. "You awake?"

Sam craned his neck to see a guy with blond, spiky hair and blue eyes. He was chained to the wall by a thick metal collar around his neck. His hairline was soaked with blood and he had bruises and cuts all around his eyes and all over his arms, too.

"Yeah," Sam answered. He couldn't shake the feeling that he'd met this guy before. "What's your name?"

"Morgan."

"All right, Morgan. I'm Sam." He looked around the room. "You know where we are?"

"Not for sure." Sam noticed his voice had a southern twang to it. "But I think we're inside a church. There was a big cross on the front of the building."

Sam nodded. "The person who did this, did you see what he looked like?"

Morgan's chains scraped against the floor as he shifted. "She's crazy. She walked into the bar where I work. One second, she's flirtin' with me at the bar, when I got off work, I walked her to her car and she whacked me over the head. The next thing I know I'm strung up, like you are."

"She?" Sam's mind instantly thought of Michelle. She'd said something was after him, a Shade. He'd done some research on them afterwards and found out that they could change genders, like a shape shifter. What if Michelle…

"Oh no," Morgan started muttering. "No, no, no, no, no."

"Morgan? Morgan, what's wrong?"

"She's here."

2:30 pm

She could not believe this was happening.

Mist ran down the street, towards the hotel Sam had been staying at. She ran as fast as she could, running as fast as most of the cars on the street. As she neared the hotel, her hopes were lifted only slightly when she saw the Impala parked in front of Sam's room. She ran to the door and pounded on it, trying not to break it down.

"Sam? Sam!" She banged on the door even harder. "Sam Winchester, you open this door, right now!"

A quiet groan came from inside the room. That was it. If whoever had knocked her out had hurt Sam, there'd be hell to pay. She'd make sure of it. She backed up, lifted her hand and a ball of energy appeared, glowing orange. She thrusted her hand forward and the ball of energy flew forward, disintegrating the door.

As she walked into the pitch black room, Mist could sense that Sam wasn't here, but there were traces of a Shade's energy all over. She raised her hand and waited as her power flowed from her chest, up her shoulder and arm, until it rested in the palm of her hand. A small blue light materialized in her hand. As she raised her hand higher and higher, the blue light grew stronger and stronger until the whole room was basking in a warm glow.

"You gonna let me outta here or what?" There in the corner was a demon. Mist made her way to the demon, with a bag over its head and its arms and legs tied to the chair; a devil's trap had been drawn on the floor beneath him. An impatient sigh came from inside the bag. She yanked the bag off of his head and set her cold glare on the demon as his black eyes greeted her.

"Thanks, sweet heart." He said, giving her figure a once-over. "Now just scratch a line through that paint on the floor and I'll let you live. Maybe."

"Tempting," She said. "But here's my counter: tell me what I want to know, and I'll let _you_ live. Maybe." When he said nothing, she started in with her questions. "Where's Sam?"

"I don't know who that is." He hissed.

"Sam," She said. "The hunter who tied you up like a pig to slaughter."

A grim glare covered his features. "I don't know-"

"Oh, silly me, I forgot to tell you, you only get one lie." She grabbed his hair and pulled his head back, forcing him to look at her. "So let's try this again. Where's Sam?"

When he still claimed ignorance, she leaned forward and brought her lips to his temple. She hovered near his skin for a moment, letting him wonder what she was doing, and then she made contact. As soon as her lips touched his skin, he screamed out in pain. Had she not heard that scream before, had she not been prepared for it, she would've jumped as high as he did. She removed her lips and asked him again.

"Screw you bitch." He said, then spat in her face. With the back of her sleeve, Mist wiped the saliva from her face. She pulled back on his hair one more and this time brought her lips to his neck. His screams intensified as she let her lips linger a while.

This power she was using, Joshua had called 'scarring', this ability branched out from her empathy. Mist was the first to master this power among the other Guardians. With a simple kiss, she could draw the emotions from every human in a mile radius and send them all into this demon. The term 'scarring' came from the fact that when pain is sent into the unwilling victim, it caused a metaphysical wound so deep that it literally scars the victim's soul. In this case, it wasn't the demon's soul- as it had none- but the human it was possessing. The human's soul would be wounded, and although she felt bad for torturing an innocent man, she would make sure that the demon would feel the worst of it.

When she removed her lips, the demon was trying to find its breath. His face was pale, skin clammy, and he was beginning to shake. A small black spot where her lips had been was slowly fading. She asked where Sam was once more time.

"What…are…you?" He panted.

Mist glared. "I'm your worst nightmare. At least I'm gonna be, if you don't tell me where Sam is." He didn't look convinced. Scared, but not totally convinced. Yet. "You know, if I kiss you square on the lips, it'll kill you." She hovered an inch over his lips, holding his head so he couldn't move back. "So I'm going to ask you. One. Last. Time." With each word, she gripped his hair even tighter. "Where is Sam?"

"I don't know." She glared at him and moved closer to his lips. His eyes widened as he tried to move back. "I don't know! I swear, I don't know!" She stopped for a second, judging if he was sincere or not. Through his emotions, she gathered that he was and pulled back, kneeling down next to him.

"Well, you'd better give me something, or things will not turn out good for you." She looked at him expectedly. "I'm waiting."

"The lights went out and your friend started groaning. Something was attacking him." He smirked. "Sounded like it hurt, too. Some guy said something to him before they both disappeared."

She stopped breathing. No, it couldn't be. She looked up at the demon while panic began to grow inside her. "Answer me truthfully or so help me…" She stared hard into his eyes. "Was it cold when the lights went out?"

He nodded as best he could with her pulling his hair back. "Yeah, it was freezing." Her hopes fell. Morpheus. She should've known three months ago when the Shade first showed himself. But she was so focused on keeping Sam safe in the present, she hadn't thought about the future. James was right, she'd been letting her emotions get the better of her for a long time and because of that, she'd put Sam in danger.

"I hope he dies. Painfully." The demon's remark brought her focus back to him. Then he started laughing. The disgusting little insignificant demon had the nerve to laugh. She stood up, raised her hand and slapped him with the back of her leather gloved hand. He spat out some blood- and a tooth- but continued to laugh.

Rage ignited. Mist could feel the fury build up within her as she came to three conclusions. (1) Sam was in danger, (2) the Shade who took him planned on killing him and, (3) this demon supported it. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, struggling to keep her power in check as each second of the demon's laughter fanned her power and anger.

Finally, his laughter died down. "I don't know anything else. Now let me go."

She looked into his eyes and nodded. "Unfortunately for you, I believe you." She said, leaning down to kiss his lips.

He tried to move his head back as she came closer. "No! You said you'd let me go."

She looked at him with emotionless eyes. "I lied." She brought her lips to his mouth. His eyes widened before he started jolting like he'd been electrocuted, and slumped down in the chair.

Standing up, Mist watched as the body shook, his lips were totally black from her kiss and the black began to run throughout his body until every piece of skin was black. Then his body gave one final jolt and disintegrated. All that was left of the demon was a pile of ash.

Had Mist been in any other situation, she would've felt some remorse for killing the innocent person inside the body. But right now, all she could think of was her charge. Walking the perimeter of the room, Mist looked for something, anything that would help her figure out where Morpheus took Sam. But so far, nothing. In the back of her mind, Mist knew what she had to do. And even though every fiber of her being was telling her not to do it, she knew she had to.

She walked to the bathroom, pulling the light with her, and leaned forward on the counter. She hung her head and closed her eyes, reaching into the core of her magic and mentally grabbed hold of the white hot power that perpetually remained inside her. She felt a light burning in her eyes and when she opened them, she looked up into the mirror and looked at herself. Her normally green eyes were now glowing bright orange, exactly like that of a flame. The air around her was thick with energy.

Walking out of the bathroom, she looked around, searching for the energy left behind by Morpheus. There, by the table that held Sam's laptop, a dark, cloud-like essence hovered a couple of feet over the ground. She stood in the center of the darkness and closed her eyes; she jolted forward as she followed the Shade.

Just as her body was disappearing, something threw her backwards, back into the wall of the hotel room. She stood up and shook off the pieces of the wall that were on her shirt. She tried to shimmer out again, but found herself thrown back against the wall. Whatever had Sam, had gone to unimaginable lengths to hide his whereabouts. She couldn't even sense where Sam was because of the protective sigils and spells they'd used to cover their tracks.

Guess she'd have to look the hard way. She grabbed the keys to the Impala before storming out of the room and to the Impala parked out front. She started up the engine and peeled out of the parking lot in search of her charge.

3:00 pm


	15. Guess Who?

3:28 pm

"You?"

"Me." Heels clicked across the floor as she stalked forward. Her long dark hair falling over one shoulder. She wore white slacks, a white tank top and white pumps. "Haven't seen you since you came to my office a few weeks ago. Any luck with finding Baykok?"

He glared. Sam hadn't the slightest idea that Kayla was evil, she had appeared to be just a normal college professor. "What are you, really?"

Kayla cocked her head to the side. "_What _am I? Sam, I'm just as human as you are." She looked him up and down. "Although, you're not really human anymore, are you Sam? I mean, really, would Dean want you to chug down that demon blood just to get him back? Would he want you to turn yourself back into a monster, a freak, just to bring him back?"

"You're a Shade." It wasn't a question.

Her face went from smug to surprised. She took a few steps towards him, folding her arms across her chest. "No, I'm not a Shade. But how do _you_ know about Shades?"

He furrowed his brow. If she wasn't the Shade that'd been following him, then who was the guy who'd knocked him out? And what was she doing here? "I do my homework."

She chuckled. "I underestimated you, Sam. But no, I'm not a Shade; just your average, run of the mill witch. Well, I wouldn't say average- or run of the mill. I am a _hundred_ times as powerful as the normal witch. And about a hundred times older too. But you've got to admit, I look good for my age."

Sam tugged on his chains with no prevail. "What do you want with me?"

To that Kayla smiled. "I'm trying to bring someone back. Someone _you _sent to purgatory six years ago." She smiled and walked over to Morgan, who was still cowering in the corner. Upon seeing her coming, he backed up as far as his chains would let him go.

Sam craned his neck to see what she was doing. "_Hey_! Leave him alone!"

She stopped in front of Morgan and smirked. Raising a hand at him, she pointed at his collar and the chain attached to it snapped, letting him back up to the wall. She knelt down next to him and tilted her head to the side and told him to stand. He shakily stood up and by the pained look on his face, it was taking all his strength to do even that much.

"Are you afraid of me?" She asked. He remained silent, his wide blue eyes glued to her. "You should be." And with that she delivered a blow to his head that sent him flying across the room.

She walked over to the wall to Sam's left, ignoring the unconscious form of Morgan there on the floor and pulled on a lever. The chains lowered Sam so he was eye level with Kayla. She walked back to him and grabbed his chin between her thumb and pointer finger. He tried to pull away, but her grip was like stone. She leaned in closer to him and looked into his eyes. "This doesn't have to happen, you know. You could avoid all this torture-"

"Yeah," He spat. "For three easy payments of 19.95, right?"

"Just work for me. Personally, I don't like doing all this dirty work," She said, motioning to Morgan's body. "I just don't feel too bad about it either. You could do these things for me," She looked at his bare chest with a sly smile. "And maybe some other things, too."

He sniggered. "Never."

"Too bad." Without another response from him, Kayla pulled out Ruby's knife from its sheath on her belt. She hovered it over his stomach and ran the end of it lightly over his skin, just making a red mark. She watched his face as she did so and smiled wistfully. "It's a shame that this beautiful body has to be scarred." As she said the words, she ran her hand across his chest and torso. Kayla turned the knife in her hand and bright the tip to his ribs. "Shall we begin?"

Sam's screams filled the church's basement and resonated off the walls.

3:40 pm

* * *

**Sorry it's short, but I'll make up for it in the next chapter! Thanks for reading! **

**ps **

**Anyone remember Morgan...? **


	16. Harpy

4:15 pm

"Harpies?" Dean said quietly to Cas as he shook his head. "You're kidding me, they exist too?"

The four of them had been walking for damn near eight hours. They were no longer walking the path to the door, but were walking to the top of this damn mountain. Well, mountain might be a little exaggerated but he definitely wouldn't call it a hill. At some points, the path was so small, the four of them had to walk single file though the dried up, dead trees. Every hundred yards or so, there would be a part of a dismembered body hanging from a tree. But the most disturbing, were the people that were strung up in the wiry trees, still awake and aware of what was going on around them, but not completely alive either. Castiel had made a point of telling Dean not to speak to them, look at them or even acknowledge their presence. Just keep walking forward.

"After all these years of hunting, _now _you're doubting the existence of something?" Cas asked. "Yes, they exist too. But you should know a few things about them before we meet them."

Dean moved to the side as the path got a bit wider, so Cas could walk next to him. "Like what?"

"Firstly, although you may find them beautiful, Harpies are very dangerous creatures. They feed off of the pain, anger, sadness and anguish of their victims. But the only way they can feed off of you, is if they get some of your blood. As long as they don't get that, you should be okay."

Dean nodded and ducked under a low hanging branch. "Alright, don't let 'em get my blood. What else?"

"Do _not_ look them in the eye. Ever. If you do, you might as well sign your own death certificate. They'll view it as a challenge and they'll fight you to the death." Cas sighed. "When we get there, you keep your eyes to the ground, do not move them. They'll decide if they want to listen to us, and if they do, _then_ you can look up. But don't-"

"Look em in the eye," Dean finished. "Yeah, I got it. But why would they help us anyways?" Dean asked. "Why not just eat us?"

"Little known fact?" Cas snapped off a dried leaf from the end of a tree limb. "Harpies won't attack unless their provoked, challenged, or…"

"Or what?"

"Or they've found a suitable mate." Dean scrunched up his brows. Cas nodded. "Believe it or not, they sense something on certain people, something that they like. Then they'll fight the person, to see if they're physically strong enough to withstand the mating ritu-"

"Okay," Dean held out his hands. "I'm good on the Harpy mating 101, thanks. Anything else?"

Cas was quiet as he thought. "Watch out for their claws." He curved his fingers like they were claws. "They're…sharp."

Dean nodded. "Right." He shook his head and moved ahead of the angel when the path got too narrow. "So how far are we from the harpies' nest?"

"We be dere now." Baykok said, slowing to a stop. He looked up at the trees around them, searching for them.

They had reached the top of the hill and were standing on a large, flat surface, almost like cement. There were scraggly, skeleton trees that cast several eerie shadows across the faces of Dean's travelling companions. Something flew past Dean, making him spin around to find what it was. He thought he saw something in the tree above him, but before he could focus his eyes, Cas pulled him by his collar and yanked him back.

"_Don't look at them!_" He hissed. "Keep your eyes down." Dean did as Cas said but listened intently as several whooshing sounds around them. Cas leaned over and whispered in his ear, "They're circling us, making sure we're not a threat to them."

More of them began circling them only but only blurs were visible as Dean peeked at them through the corner of his eye. One of the blurs came closer to Dean, making him step to the side and bump into Cas. From his peripheral vision, Dean saw what they were doing. The harpies were getting the outsiders close together so they could easily surround them.

And all at once, the whooshing stopped and a violent tremor shook the ground beneath their feet. Had Cas not been next to him, Dean would've fallen over.

A raspy voice began speaking in front of them. He couldn't tell what language they were speaking, but apparently Azazel did because he spoke back to the voice. After a few minutes of them speaking back and forth, Cas raised his head.

"They're going to listen to us." Cas said. Dean slowly raised his head and looked up at the creatures standing in front of the four of them, careful not to look any of them in the eye.

There were four tall, Amazonian-like, women. They wore next to nothing; what looked like animal hide was stretched across their breasts and they wore the same hide tied around their hips. Their feet were bare. Each of the women were so tall that Dean had to look up to see their faces. The one directly in front of Dean stood with her arms folded across her chest. She had coffee-colored skin and wildly curly, black hair. Next to her, a striking blond with pale skin stood, watching Azazel. After her was a red haired beauty with bronze skin. She had a spear in one hand, holding it as if she were dying to run someone through with it. The last one sat on a nearby rock, one leg crossed over the other. She looked like the youngest of the four, with light brown hair that, unlike the others', looked like it'd been combed through.

As different as they looked from each other at first glance, they shared a few physical traits. Each woman had- as Castiel had said- long, talon-like claws emerging from their fingers. At the quickest of glances, Dean saw that they also had the same eyes; all glowed silver, even the white parts of the eye, except for the center, which was black. But what caught Dean's attention was their wings. They had dark black feathers on their wings that were pulled close to their backs.

The blond stepped forward and stood in front of Azazel and said something to him. When he responded, she turned around and walked to the black haired girl and spoke to her. They gestured to the brown haired girl, sitting on the rock and she stood up and approached them. After a few minutes of what sounded like arguing, the brunette walked over to Dean and stopped in front of him. She looked into his eyes- which he quickly averted- before moving on to Cas. She did this with each of them and then glanced over at the three women, telling them something as she went back to the rock she was previously sitting on. The blond took a few steps and stood in front of Cas.

"What do you want?" Dean risked a peek and saw that as she opened her mouth, sharpened teeth peeked through her lips. Her voice heavy with a foreign accent that Dean couldn't recognize. Azazel stepped forward to speak to her but she raised her hand, stopping him where he was. "I spoke to him. Not you." Her gaze returned to the angel as she waited for him to answer.

The old Cas was back, for now, his face showing nothing but seriousness. "We need to get to the door."

She raised an eyebrow at him. "The door? Why?"

"We're going to get out of here." He stated. "But we need your help to do so."

The Harpy tilted her head to the side as a sly smile crossed her face. She looked him up and down, making Dean roll his eyes. "Why should we help you?"

Cas returned the smile and shrugged. "Because if you help us, you can get out of here too. You and your sisters can be free again."

The three harpies behind the blond were instantly interested, their pointed ears perked as the word 'free' crossed Castiel's lips. Azazel and Baykok, along with Dean, turned their heads to stare at the angel. Was he crazy? He was willing to let a bunch of monsters from purgatory loose into the world! Dean struggled to remain silent as Cas proceeded to sway the harpy to their side. After ten long minutes of persuading, the harpy nodded to her sisters, and then looked back at Cas.

"I am Celaeno." She said, then she motioned down the line of harpies behind her, starting with the darker-skinned woman, then on to the red head and the brunette. "These are my sisters Aello, Obelia and Zandra. And we will help you."

4:45 pm

"Are you crazy?" Dean hissed. The Harpies had left to gather the rest of their sisters, Dean shuddered at the thought of how many there might be. Cas was sitting on a rock, observing a feather from one of the Harpies' wings, turning it over in his hand. "Cas, we can't let them out! Did you see their claws? Not to mention their teeth! They could rip a man to shreds!"

Cas looked up from the feather and up at Dean. "Do you want to get out of here?"

Dean closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Yes Cas, of course I do, I'm just saying-"

"I know what you're saying, Dean. But understand what I'm saying. We will not get out of here without their help. The door is going to open in seven hours and right now, we'd have to walk for weeks to get to the door. Whether you like it or not, Dean, we need them." Cas put a reassuring hand on Dean's shoulder. "I know you don't like this, but we all have to work together if we want to get out of here."

"I know, you're right." Dean nodded and sighed. He looked over at Azazel and Baykok, who were having a heated discussion about something. He didn't know what about, but he didn't like that they were just out of earshot. "What are they talking about?"

Cas looked around Dean and over at the other two. "Someone named Kayla Wigwans." He scrunched his brows together and tilted his head to the side. He was about to say more, but the sound of flapping wings alerted them to the presence of the harpies. They couldn't be seen yet, but it wouldn't be long.

"How many are there?" Dean muttered to Cas. But it wasn't the angel that responded.

"Nine altogether." Azazel said from behind Dean. "But the other five are going to meet us at the door. That's not so bad, is it? Not nearly as many as Castiel let out. Right, Cassie?"

Cas' head drooped as he examined a button on his sleeve. Dean knew how badly he felt about that incident. He hadn't meant to hurt anyone, but then, good intentions pave the way to yada, yada, yada…

Dean was about to defend his friend when the ground beneath their feet shook as four dark figures landed on the ground in front of them. Dean looked over at Cas, who's head was down, then at Azazel and Baykok, they were doing the same. Dean quickly followed suit. After a few foreign words were exchanged between Azazel and the blond Harpy, Cas told him it was okay to look up.

"So how're we gonna do this?" Dean asked.

Cas spoke without emotion, but his eyes were shimmering with laughter. "They're going to carry us."

Dean stared at Castiel incredulously. "You're kidding…right?"


	17. Somebody Save Me

5:30 pm

_…Drip._

_…Drip._

_…Drip._

Sam's head hung as he listened to the sound of his own blood dripping down into the well below him. Kayla had been torturing him for hours; cutting, slicing, hacking. She'd switched knives after the first ten minutes, saying that Sam wasn't 'getting the full effect'. The blade she used now was definitely not a normal one either. This one seemed to make the sting of each cut last longer, hurt more. She stood before him now, as calm as could be, her previously white attire was now mostly red with Sam's blood. She was wearing more of it than he had in his body.

"W-why…" Sam breathed out.

She looked thoroughly confused. "Why what? Oh, why am I doing this to you?" She nodded. "Well, it's payback. Mostly. But more importantly, I need your blood. There's a very important ritual that I need to perform, and the main ingredient?" She looked at him as if she expected an answer. "Your blood! My father will need strength when he gets back."

_Father? _Sam thought. He lifted his head as much as he could and swallowed. "What are you talking about?"

"You still haven't figured it out?" She laughed a beautifully evil laugh. "Must be all that blood that I've drained from your system. Think about it Sam. Six years ago, you were," She tapped her chin, leaving bloody spots where her finger touched her skin. "Twenty-three?"

She walked over to a trunk by the door. As she opened it, she continued to try to jog his memory. "It was you, your brother, Bobby, and- what was that other hunter's name? Ellen." Sam's memories flashed of times when the four of them were together. "I'll give you another hint." She knelt down and pulled out a long black dress from the trunk. She closed the trunk and laid the dress on top of it. Then Kayla turned to look at Sam, who was struggling to keep his head up. "You were in a graveyard when you killed my father."

_Graveyard, Bobby and Ellen, six years ago, the Devil's Gate, _Sam's mind was whirling. "Azazel?" She smiled. "Azazel's your father?"

"Not by blood, like _you._" She looked almost jealous as she took a few steps towards him. "But I've been with him longer than anyone. _I've_ been the most loyal. _I'm_ going to bring him back, one way or another. And when he returns, he's going to need power. Like the kind he gave to you when you were an infant. So, I'm draining it all out of you, every last drop of his blood in your veins will be returned to him."

She turned her back to him and returned to the trunk. She stopped in front of it and faced her prisoner as she peeled off her blood-soaked shirt. Sam averted his eyes, resting his chin on his chest. Kayla laughed a laugh that was beautiful as it was evil and began stripping completely.

"I'm not making you uncomfortable, am I Sam?" She asked, her smirk evident through her voice.

"No, not anymore uncomfortable than you torturing me." He said, fighting to stay conscious.

She laughed, and turned her head, a smart remark ready when she saw Sam's eyelids close, only to have him shake his head, trying to wake himself up. "Oh no you don't." She strode over to him and lifted his face level with hers. "Don't you pass out on me now." She closed her eyes and chanted some words in Latin that Sam couldn't catch. Suddenly, he was wide awake. Kayla smiled and padded back to the trunk.

He almost laughed out loud. She was only trying to keep him awake, but what she didn't realize was that, in using her powers to wake him up, it also kept him alert. Before, he could barely form a sentence, but now? Now the wheels were turning.

Ignoring her naked figure, Sam looked around the room, trying to find any exit or a window but there looked to be only three exits: the door, a small window with thick bars, and a small vent by the trunk that would be much too small to squeeze his large frame into. Plus, with his hands and feet tied, he didn't have a chance of getting out on his own.

That was it. He couldn't get out on his own, but he might be able to call someone for help. He searched the room for his clothes as Kayla slipped on the black dress. There, in the corner of the room, Sam's shirt and jacket were flopped on the floor.

While Sam was planning his escape, Kayla ran her hands down her dress. It was a floor-length, black satin dress that fit her small frame like a glove. The sleeves of the dress clung to her tanned arms and cut off at the wrist, the neckline plunged down between her breasts, from there a thin silver belt hung off of her narrow hips. She remained barefoot as she walked over to Sam.

Sam's attention was drawn from his escape plan to Kayla, who was walking back towards him with five candles, a thick leather-bound book, and a satchel filled with something unidentifiable; all of which was sitting inside of a large silver bowl. She had managed to remove the blood from her hands too. She pulled out a piece of chalk from the bottom of the bowl and began drawing a large symbol on the floor between Sam and herself. Once that was finished, Kayla put the bowl on top of the chalk marks and took everything out of it.

Picking up the leather-bound book, she carefully flipped through it until she found the right page. Then she started pulling out different materials, herbs, vials of liquid, and what Sam recognized as human bones, more specifically, the bones from a baby. She'd look over at the book every now and then, as she added in the different ingredients to bowl. With a satisfied nod, Kayla stood and returned to the trunk, opening it and removing a silver chalice. She walked past the silver bowl, picking up the knife as she did, and stopped in front of Sam.

"Now, I hope you don't mind, but I'm going to need to take some of your blood now." She said it as if she were a nurse taking blood from a patient instead of a witch, forcibly taking her sacrifice's blood to complete her spell.

Sam chuckled dryly. "Take my blood? I barely have any left, thanks to you."

She scrunched her brows and smiled. "Of course you do silly. When I kept you from passing out earlier, I healed you up. Like, seventy percent of the way. So now you're full of blood again." She took a firmer grasp on the blade in her hand and with the grace and quickness of a snake, she slashed Sam across the stomach. Sam threw his head back and bit back a groan. She merely smiled and pressed the cold cup to his wound, letting the blood flow into it.

When the chalice was full to the rim, she pulled it away and carefully walked back to the silver bowl. She set it down in favor of picking up the five candles, setting them in a large circle around her and the bowl. With the snap of her fingers, the wicks of the candles around her shot up two or three feet before settling down to their normal size. She closed her eyes, raised the glass of Sam's blood above her head and began chanting; Sam recognized some of the words as Latin, but he didn't understand most of it, which meant it must've been an extremely old dialect.

She opened her eyes and poured the blood into the bowl as her chants became softer and softer. By the time all the blood was in the bowl, Kayla had finished her chanting and set the empty cup down on the ground next to her. As she stood up, the candles went out. She picked up the bowl and walked towards the door.

"Now, I've got to put this over a fire for a while," She told Sam without breaking stride. She stopped at the door and looked back at him with a flirty smile. "Don't go anywhere, kay?" Sam clenched his jaw as she shut the door behind her, he waited a few seconds before putting his plan into action.

"Morgan!" He called. The young man lay unmoving on the floor. "_Morgan!_" This time, hid blond head twitched and a groan emitted from him. "Morgan!"

That time, Morgan sat up groggily and rubbed his head, looking around. When his eyes settled in Sam, they widened at the sight of all his blood pooled on the ground and he visibly paled. "Oh my god."

"Morgan, I need you to get into my jacket pocket and get my cell phone." Morgan didn't move, he was staring at the door, frozen in fear. "Morgan!"

He shook his head and looked at Sam. "What?"

"My cell phone, get it out of my jacket." Sam repeated. "It's in the corner, there. Hurry, Morgan, before she comes back!" Morgan half walked, half crawled to Sam's jacket and reached inside the pocket. He pulled out the phone and began to dial 911. "Morgan, wait!" He stopped as he was about to push send and looked up at Sam.

"What?"

"Go through my contacts, find Michelle and call her."

"What?!" Morgan shook his head. "No, we gotta call the cops."

"Morgan, listen to me." Sam pleaded. "You've seen what that woman can do. She'll take out the cops with no trouble. My friend Michelle will know how to stop her. Please, call her."

"Fine," Morgan said looking through the contacts on the phone. When he found it he pressed send and put it on speakerphone.

"_Sam?_" Michelle's voice rang through the phone. "_Where have you been?! I've been calling you for hours! I thought-_"

"Michelle, I need your help." Sam interrupted.

"_Where are you?_"

"I don't know exactly," Sam answered truthfully. "We're in the basement of an old church, I think."

"_We?_" She asked. "_Who's with you?_"

"Morgan, he was taken by Kayla too. Hold on a second, Michelle." He looked at Morgan. "Morgan, look out the window. Tell her what you see."

Morgan ran to the window and looked out. He brought the phone closer and told her what was out there. "There's, uh, it sounds like a river," He looked out further. "There's a lotta trees around."

"_Is there anything specific about the church you're in?_" She asked.

Morgan thought for a moment, running a hand over his face. "No, I don't, ma'am, I'm sorry- wait, yeah! Yeah, there is somethin' in the front. The sign says, 'Sixth Covenant Fellowship'."

"_Sixth…_" The sound of a keyboard's buttons being pushed could be heard in the background. "_Alright, I've got the address, it's not too far from here. I'm on my way._"

"Wait!" Sam called. "The person who took us, she's a witch, a very powerful one, be careful."

"_I'll be fine Sam. I'll be there in twenty minutes._" With that, her line went dead and Morgan shut the phone.

Sam looked at the doorway, then back to Morgan. "Listen to me, you need to go back over there and act like you're still unconscious." Footsteps came from behind the door. "Hurry!"

Morgan ran over to the wall and lay down on the ground next to it. Just as he'd closed his blue eyes, the door opened. Kayla came in with two men behind her. She was holding a glass with a blood red liquid inside. The two men stopped at either side of the door, arms crossed over their chests, looking like club bouncers. With one difference: their eyes were completely black.

"Well," She said excitedly. "It's finished!" She held up the glass. "Now, I'm afraid, I've got no more use for you, Sam. Unless you've decided to come... work, for me?" Sam fixed his glare on her. To the two demons behind her, she snapped her fingers. "Kill him."

As Kayla sauntered out of the room, the men walked forward, one unlocked the shackles on his feet, while the other removed the ones on Sam's wrists. They each grabbed an arm, and started dragging him towards the door. When one let go of him to open the door, Sam reached up and delivered a right hook into the demon's face. Turning quickly, Sam elbowed the other, sending him sprawling to the ground. Meanwhile, the first demon had gotten up and grabbed the back of Sam's hair and slammed him into the wall.

Squirming out of the demon's reach, Sam crawled to the other side of the room. He stood up and raised his hand, channeling his power, what little of it was left, into exorcising the demon. Although, Kayla had drained most of it, Sam could still feel a small amount of his power there, inside him. The demon stumbled, then came to a complete stop. Black smoke began to slowly spill from his mouth, he fell to his knees, then face down on the floor as the black smoke hovered around him.

Sam squeezed his eyes shut as tight as he could, his brain pulsing in his head; he could feel blood trickle down from his nose, its metallic taste crossing his pursed lips. Sam fell to his knees, completely wiped out. He looked up to see the other demon standing over him. It punched Sam in the face, sending him flying across the floor. He followed Sam, kicking him wherever he could. The demon reached down and put his hands around Sam's throat, squeezing as hard as he could.

Sam's vision was just beginning to fade when the demon's eyes widened and he fell to the side. Light flickered in him before his body went completely limp. Morgan stood over Sam, ruby's knife in hand, and held out a hand for Sam to take. Sam caught his breath and grasped hid hand, pulling himself up.

"Thanks, Morgan," Sam gasped, still catching his breath.

"No problem." He gave Sam the knife and put a hand on his shoulder. "You alright? Can ya walk?"

Sam grabbed his head in one and gave Morgan a thumbs up. "Yeah, I'll be fine."

Morgan nodded and looked around. "Come on, let's go!" He tugged at Sam's shirt, before running towards the door.

"Morgan, wait!" But before Sam could fully warn him, Morgan opened the door, revealing a smiling Kayla, leaning against the door frame.

"Where are _you_ going?" She put her hands to his chest and pushed him. He went flying across the room, his head slamming against the wall with a sickening thud. Kayla's brown eyes met Sam's and she flicked her wrist, pinning Sam against the wall behind him. She walked over to him and placed a hand on his bare shoulder.

"Sam, you sure are a tricky one to kill, aren't you?" She tilted her head to the side and raised a hand to the side, her body levitated up a couple feet. She leaned in towards him and planted the lightest of kisses on his lips. Sam threw his head to the side, ripping his lips from hers. She looked at him, slightly amused. "You sure know how to hurt a girl's feelings."

She floated back down to the ground and picked up Ruby's knife. Her eyes glittered with excitement as she raised the knife. One single shot fired from behind her, hitting her hand, knocking the knife from her raised hand. Sam looked up to see Michelle, gun raised, slowly walking into the basement. Kayla turned around, cradling her bloody hand with the other and looked at the young woman in the doorway. She wore brown hiking boots, simple blue jeans and a red tank top. Her brown hair was tied back in a single braid down her back.

"Ow." She said. Kayla looked down at her hand, then at her dress, which now had blood on it. "Do you know how much this dress costs?!" Kayla waved her good hand, intending to send the girl into the wall. But when nothing happened, Kayla tried again. She looked down at her own hand, then up at the girl. "What are you?"


	18. Chapter 18 For Lack of a Better Name

6:15 pm

Mist smiled as the witch tried to use her power on her. she could tell this one was very old, and very powerful, like Sam had said, but she wasn't nearly as strong as Mist was.

"What are you?" Mist had planned ahead for that question.

"Me? _I'm_ human" She lowered her gun, reached into her pocket and pulled out a bright gold amulet, something she'd picked up at the department store a few weeks ago. "But having an amulet that protects you from witchcraft helps."

Kayla narrowed her eyes. "That amulet holds no power."

Mist raised her eyebrows. "Really? Then why don't your powers work on me?"

"No," Kayla shook her head. "No, there is no magic in that amulet."

"Well," Mist said slowly as she put the necklace back into her pocket. "It looks like you don't know as much as you thought, huh?"

"No," Kayla repeated, raising her good hand and pointing at Mist. "You're not human… What are you?" She turned to Sam, who looked just as confused as Kayla did. "What is she?"

Now it was Mist's turn to narrow her eyes. "Hate to disappoint you, witch, but I'm totally human." With that, Mist raised the gun and fired a single shot into Kayla's forehead. Her lifeless body stood there for a moment before falling to the ground and as her body hit the floor, so did Sam's. Mist tucked the gun into the waistband of her jeans and ran to Sam, sitting him up against the wall.

"Are you okay?" She asked, taking note of all his injuries. He had multiple cuts on his face and neck. But all over his chest and stomach, there were multiple lacerations ranging from an inch to a foot long.

"I'll be fine," He panted. It killed her how much pain he was in, she instinctively wanted to use her power and heal him, but- as much as she hated it- she knew she couldn't do that. He looked up at her and smiled, his teeth were bloody. "Thanks for coming."

"Of course." She lifted his arm, putting it around her shoulder and pulled him up. He started walking with her, but after a few steps, he stopped. When she looked up at him, he grabbed her by the shoulders.

"What time is it?" His voice was urgent as his eyes grew wide.

Mist reached into her pocket and pulled out her phone. "6:25. Why?"

He breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank God. Michelle, we need to get back to the motel. And find a demon."

"What? Why?" He explained what had happened with Baykok and the ritual. Her jaw dropped. Baykok actually, willingly helped him? From what she'd heard of Baykok, he wasn't the kind to do charity work. She was positive that she'd have to use her powers to persuade him to help. "So you need to kill a demon at twelve o'clock…" She dropped off, putting the pieces together. "So the door will be open and they can come through it."

"Exactly," Sam said. "Which is why we need to get back to the motel and-"

"Actually," Mist interrupted. "Your hotel room is kinda destroyed." He looked at her, confused. "From when you got kidnapped." Lie. "But, for a spell like that, it doesn't require the sigils that are on the wall back at the motel. A simple circle on any wall would suffice." She smiled. "And finding a demon should be easy." Sam's brows scrunched. "Upstairs, in the chapel there's like, eight."

"How do you know that?"

At a glance, Sam saw that the door was closed. "How'd you get in?"

She smiled. "How do you think I got in?" She pointed behind her. He looked behind her and at the door, which was closed. He looked to the left and laughed. The air conditioning vent had been taken off the wall and was lying on the ground. "I looked in the window outside and saw them inside the chapel. So I decided to come save your ass first."

"But they would've heard the gunshot-" He was interrupted by Michelle whipping out her gun, that had a silencer on the barrel. "Ah, that would explain that." He chuckled. "Alright, let's go get a demon." He started to get up when she pushed down on his shoulders, keeping him where he was.

"No, _I'll _go get a demon. You're too banged up." She motioned to his body.

He shook his head. "No, you're not going alone."

"Sam," She said, using her literal power of persuasion on him. "I'm gonna go. You need to stay here."

She stood up and turned headed for the door when Sam grabbed her wrist. She stopped and looked back at him. His eyes seemed to pierce through hers and see into her soul. "Be careful."

She swallowed hard and nodded. He held on to her wrist for a few seconds longer, looking into her eyes. When he let go, she gave him a reassuring smile and continued on to the door, up the stairs and into the chapel. The demons in the room all turned to look at her. They all started forward, intent on killing her. She let her power fluctuate, feeling the slight burning in her eyes as they glowed orange. Each demon stopped where they were for a moment, then continued forward. She smiled and lifted a hand.

_Here we go, _She thought.

6:40 pm

Sam watched her as she walked across the room and out the door. He let out a breath he wasn't aware he'd been holding. What was happening to him? He felt a connection with her, a connection he hadn't felt with someone since Jessica. When she'd left back in Markston, it felt like she'd taken a part of him with her, as corny as it sounded. When he saw her today, his heart sped up and he felt complete again. And now that she was gone again, he felt hollow again.

He barely knew her and he felt strongly for her. She'd risked her life for him once already and now she was up there fighting off demons so they could bring Dean back. She didn't even know Dean, hell she barely knew Sam, but she was willing to help them. She was kind, beautiful, confident, but there was something else, something that lay beneath the surface that seemed dangerous, unpredictable. Wild.

From upstairs, the sound of what Sam guessed was a body hitting the wall was heard several times. Sam looked up as someone groaned. Then someone was coming down the stairs, something hitting the stairs one at a time as they came down.

"Michelle?" Sam called. There was no answer for a moment but then Michelle came through the doors, dragging an unconscious man behind her.

She stopped at the doorway and looked over at Sam. "You okay?"

"Yeah," Sam said, feeling his heart speed up as she smiled at him.

She returned to the task of dragging the man into the room. Sam stood up, since he'd regained his balance a while ago, and grabbed the man's arms.

"Where do you want him?" He asked.

"Over by that wall?" Sam nodded and dragged him there.

xXx

Mist put a hand on Sam's arm, ignoring how firm it was, and nodded at his torso. "Let's get you cleaned up." She ran out to the Impala and grabbed the first aid kit from the trunk. When she came back, she started cleaning up the blood from the deepest cuts, a few were going to need stitches, but for now she applied some butterfly bandages to the them.

She moved on to the largest cut, across his stomach. "I need you to lie down." He nodded as she put her hand on his back, helping him ease back onto the cool ground. She sat on her knees and moved a piece of hair from his face. Giving him a reassuring smile, she wet the washcloth with a bottle of water that was in the box. "This is gonna-"

"Hurt?" He nodded. "I think I can handle it."

She arched one dark brow. "I was gonna say 'be cold' but it's good to know you can handle hurt too." She pressed the cloth to his skin, ignoring the butterflies in her stomach as the muscles in his tightened. She continued to clean out his wound, then put some gauze over it. She reached into the box and grabbed an ace bandage. "Sit up."

Again, she put her hand on his back and helped him up into a sitting position. She pressed the end of the bandage over the gauze on his stomach and held it there with her hand. She wrapped the dressing around his torso, disregarding the flutter her heart made each time she came close to his face, his lips. Once she was done, she helped him up and grabbed his clothes from the corner of the room.

As Sam put on his shirt, Mist walked over to the demon and took its hand. With Ruby's knife, she cut across his skin across his palm. The blood flowed as she dipped her fingers into the red liquid and began drawing the circle on the wall. When it was finished, she stepped back to get a better view of it and nodded. Then she walked back to where Sam was and sat down next to him.

"So…"

He looked at her in curiosity. "So?"

She sighed. "I don't know. What should we do now? We've got-" She looked at her phone. "Four hours to spare."

He laughed and ran a hand through his hair, suddenly feeling nervous. "Yeah, I don't know either."


	19. Flying High

8:30 pm

When all the harpies arrived at the top of that flat rock, the leader, Celaeno had wrapped her arms around Castiel's chest and lifted him. Right before his eyes, Azazel was picked up by Obelia and Baykok by Aello. All of them disappeared within a matter of seconds, leaving Dean standing there, alone. He looked around him and his eyes caught on the youngest harpy. She stood before him; hands clasped behind her back, and wings, watching him with curiosity and a hint of, was it, fear in her eyes? Remembering Castiel's warning, Dean quickly averted his eyes from hers.

After a long, awkward silence, Dean took a shaky breath, hoping she wasn't going to tear him apart for looking her in the eye. "How're we gonna do this?" She cocked her head to the side and looked at him questioningly. Maybe she didn't speak English. "Do you speak? English?"

"Yes." She took a few quick steps towards him and he flinched, closing his eyes, waiting for the claws to impale his flesh. Or her teeth, frankly either one could probably tear his throat out. When nothing happened, he risked a look and found her a few feet away. She was watching him, a perplexed look covering her face. "Are you afraid of me?"

"Just of your claws-" He looked down at her hands, only to see that she had no talons, only the normal looking nails of a human. "Well, your teeth."

"I will not hurt you." He glanced up at her face, forgetting Castiel's previous warnings. He saw nothing but truth in her eyes. The hunter inside screamed at him to look away from her until he finally did, moving his hazel eyes to the ground below him. "Why will you not look at me?"

"I was told not to look you in the eye." She started laughing. Dean scrunched his brows and almost looked at her, almost. "Something funny?"

"I do not wish to fight anyone." She could tell he didn't believe her. "Ask your angel friend, he will tell you the same. But you are in a hurry, yes?" With that, she backed up a few feet and spread her wings. Each wing was easily five or six feet long.

"Turn around." She said. He did, nervously, and waited. A few long moments passed before a pair of strong arms wrapped around his chest and stomach and jumped off the rock. The two of them plummeted down. Dean squeezed his eyes shut and bit back a scream. Suddenly, they weren't going down anymore.

He opened his eyes, knowing that he shouldn't but hey, what do they say about getting killed by curiosity? The trees and desert were flying under him. Out of nowhere, a mountain appeared in front of them. Zandra turned and flipped, flying upside-down for a while, barely avoiding the thing.

Dean could feel the color drain from his face as he fought to keep from throwing up. His head was woozy and his stomach was being thrown every which way. He groaned and found himself grasping to Zandra's arms that were around him. "Please don't do that again."

He felt her chest move as she laughed. "You do not like flying?"

He was pretty sure his face was green now. "No."

"Would you like me to speed up? To get there faster?"

He considered it. "How far away are we?"

"We are forty-seven minutes away."

"No, no faster, just don't do any flips, okay?" She laughed as he looked down again and groaned.

8:50 pm

"Son of a bitch." If he didn't like flying before, he sure as hell didn't like it now. Dean's feet had just touched the gravely ground and he instantly sat down, putting his head between his knees. When he looked up, he saw a large pool of water a few yards away from him. Azazel and Baykok stood next to each other near the water as Castiel spoke to Celaeno away from the group. The rest of the Harpies were standing together away from everyone else. In addition to Celaeno, Zandra, Obelia and Aello, there were five more Harpies.

"Those are my sisters." Zandra said, standing next to him. She reached up and tucked a strand of brown hair behind her pointed ear. Dean jumped as a strong hand clamped down on his shoulder. He turned around to see Cas standing there with a grim look set upon his face.

"We need to talk." Castiel looked from Dean to Zandra and set his jaw. "Alone." Zandra looked taken back. Dean figured no one had ever spoken to her in such a harsh tone before. Or in any tone for that matter. She opened her mouth to say something but closed it again after seeing the impatience in his eyes.

"Alright." She nodded and started walking away, pausing only a moment to look back at Dean. She smiled at him, which he returned a bit hesitantly. She beamed as her wings fluttered a little and walked quickly to her sisters.

"Dean," Castiel said in a hushed tone. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah-" He was cut off by the angel pulling him by the collar of his shirt away from the others. Once they were out of earshot of the others, Cas let go of him. "What was that about?" Cas grabbed Dean's chin and turned his head from side to side. Dean swatted his hand away. "What are you doing?"

"Did she hurt you?" Dean stared at him as if he'd lost his mind, which, technically, he had. "Zandra, did she harm you in any way?"

"No," Dean said.

"What about your chest? Where her claws were, did she draw any blood?" Cas looked like he was gonna check if Dean didn't, so the hunter pulled his shirt away from his body and looked down at his chest. There was no blood.

"No," Dean said exasperatedly, looking up from his shirt. "Cas, would you calm down for a second and tell me what's going on?"

Cas took a breath and ran a hand through his own hair, which hadn't grown since they'd gotten there. "I'm sorry. I'm just making sure she didn't get any of your blood, so she couldn't feed from you."

Dean nodded. "It's fine." He looked around at the pool of water. "What is this place?"

Castiel looked at him curiously. "The door."

"What? No, this can't be the door. The door was-" He honestly couldn't remember what it'd looked like. At the moment, he had been running from Baykok, who was trying to kill him so he didn't really have time to stop and look at the scenery. "Well, it didn't look like that."

"Dean, it has always looked like this. Are you feeling okay?" Castiel asked. Dean was about to answer no, but when Cas looked over the hunter's shoulder, Dean stopped. He followed the angel's gaze to the tall blond winged woman standing behind him: Celaeno. She had somehow gotten behind Dean and was looking down at him. She said something to Castiel and walked back to her sisters.

"What was that about?" Dean asked, brows furrowed. When he received no answer, he turned back to Cas. The angel grabbed his right arm, making Dean's knees buckle under him as Cas squeezed the wound on his arm, from Abaddon's attack. Cas let go as Dean collapsed against a boulder and slid down to the ground. Castiel knelt next to him with sorrow filling his eyes.

"Take off your jacket." There was something in his voice that made Dean do what he was told. With a grunt of pain, he removed the jacket and laid it on the ground next to him. Castiel grabbed the sleeve of his shirt and tore it off at the shoulder, slipping it off his arm. When after a moment of Cas doing nothing, Dean opened his scrunched eyes and looked at him. Cas was staring, wide-eyed at the wound on Dean's arm. Dean looked down at it again and his breath caught.

Before, the bite mark looked bad, the wound was open and bloody. Now, not only was it open and bloody, all along the wound, white stuff was appearing. Cas took Dean's arm and touched the blood running down his arm and brought it to his face. He smelled it the blood and looked at it curiously for a few minutes. The angel grabbed the torn off sleeve of Dean's shirt and wiped the blood off his finger.

Dean looked at him, waiting for him to say something. But Cas just sat there, staring at Dean's arm.

"Well?" Dean asked, after a long silence.

Cas jumped a little and looked up at him apologetically. "Dean I-"

"I know." Dean interrupted. He had hoped maybe Balthazar and Lenore had been wrong, but from the expression Cas wore, he knew they weren't.

"Dean, I need to ask you something." Cas asked slowly. Dean motioned for him to continue. "No matter how trivial these questions may seem, it's important you answer truthfully."

"Okay,"

He reached into his pocket and pulled out the feather he'd been inspecting before the Harpies came back and gave it to Dean. "What is that?"

Dean looked from the black feather to the angel and stared at him incredulously. "Cas, are you-"

"Dean, you promised." Cas said.

Dean shook his head. "Right, it's a feather. From one of them, I'll bet."

"Say the alphabet."

"Cas-"

"Say the alphabet." The angel stated again.

After completing the alphabet twice, counting backwards from 100, stating the make and model of his car, and the first thing he ever hunted, Castiel seemed satisfied.

"You gonna tell me what that was about?" Dean asked.

Cas sighed and nodded. "Zandra told Celaeno you'd been bitten by Abaddon. And memory loss is one of the signs that the poison has made it's way into the brain. Once it gets there, you'd be done for. There'd be no saving you from that."

Dean's eyes were wide. "But I'm good? I mean, I passed your test, right?"

"Yes," Castiel said gruffly. Dean relaxed a bit as he tore up his torn off sleeve into thick strips and tied them around his upper arm. Then he rested his arms on his knees and rested his head back against the rock behind him. Cas did the same. His attention was drawn to the nine harpies who were speaking in hushed voices. As he was watching them, his eyes fell on Zandra. She had her arms crossed in front of her as she, literally, hissed at her sisters and stormed away.

"Cas? Before we took off, Zandra said something." Cas simply looked at him, waiting for him to go on. "She said that she doesn't hurt anyone. You said they were all territorial but she was confused about why I wouldn't want to challenge her."

"Well," Cas played with the laces on his shoes as he continued. "Zandra is a young Harpy. She's only three years old-"

"Three _years?_" Dean looked at him incredulously. "Cas, she's like, a teenager."

The angel shook his head. "Harpies age differently than humans. Within a Harpy's first year, they get their fangs. After their first kill, their talons appear. But as you could see, Zandra has the teeth, but not the talons. That's because she hasn't killed anyone before. When you got here, I was speaking to Celaeno; she warned me that Zandra was strange." Castiel's lips curved into a smile. "She also warned me to keep an eye on you when you were around her."

"Why?"

"Because apparently, drawing blood isn't just their way of feeding. But it's how they judge possible mates. That's why I was asking if she'd drawn any blood." He chuckled. "And since Zandra thinks you to be a suitable mate, Celaeno-"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa." Dean interrupted. "Zandra what?"

"She thinks you to be a suitable mate." Dean chuckled and looked around for Zandra. He found her sitting up in a tree watching them. When she saw him see her, she looked away at the pool of water below.

Dean sighed. "So what do we do now?"

"Now, we wait for midnight."


	20. Uh-oh

9:59 pm

Sam and Michelle had sat there in the basement for over an hour, talking. Sam had just finished telling her his story. Although he left out a few parts, like his relationship with Ruby and him starting the apocalypse. He told her about Cas and Dean, what they were like and how they got sent to purgatory.

"So what about you?" He asked. She blinked a few times; he could tell she wasn't too keen on sharing her life story, but at the same time, he wanted to know.

"My story's not as interesting as yours, believe me." She said. Suddenly, her head snapped up and she got up, looking around the room with narrowed eyes. "Sam?"

He stood up and watched her. "Yeah?"

"Where's that guy that was here with you?" As she said the words, he looked around the room. His brows scrunched up. Morgan had been there when Michelle came, but now there was no trace of him.

"I don't know." He opened his mouth to say something else but as he did, Michelle clutched her throat and was violently thrown back into the wall behind her. Her head lolled to the side as an effect of her head hitting the wall. Sam ran to her, but when he was a few feet away, an invisible wall stopped him in his tracks. "Michelle!"

"She's fine," Morgan's accented voice rang through the basement but Sam couldn't see him. From the corner, Sam saw the shadows in the swirl around and take the form of a man. Sam turned around and his jaw dropped. It was Morgan. Only he wasn't a bloodied up and scared. Now, his jeans and shirt were intact, all blood was gone from his body. "For now."

"Morgan? You're the Shade?" Sam said, unbelievingly.

"Yep." He looked at Kayla's dead body and smirked. "Oh, and thanks for killing the little bitch for me, she had me bound to her for two damn years and I couldn't kill her myself because of the spell. But you guys got me out of it!" He held up a finger at Sam and smiled. "Hold on a moment, would ya? Just gonna change real quick." The shadows swirled around him once more until he could no longer be seen. Then the shadows, departed leaving a completely different man in Morgan's place. This man had jet black hair that made him look even paler in comparison to his white skin. He wore a plain pair of jeans with a black t-shirt under a black leather duster.

"There," He cracked his neck. "Much better. Do you have any idea how long I've been looking forward to meeting you? Talking to you in _person_? Years."

Sam scrunched his brows. "Why?"

"What?" The Shade looked at Sam for a moment in confusion and then smiled. "Oh, no, not you, Sam. Her." Sam's eyes widened in realization, he looked back at Michelle. She was still held against the wall, only now there were shadows over her wrists, ankles, waist and neck, keeping her strapped there.

Sam picked up Ruby's knife and held it out in front of him as he stepped protectively in front of her. "You were never after me," He said, putting the pieces together. "You were after her. This whole time she's been hunting you, and you've been after _her_."

"Right you are." He said. "Oh, and it's not 'Morgan' it's Morpheus."

He began to walk forward, making Sam raise the knife a bit higher. "Don't come near her."

Morpheus laughed. "I'm not a demon, Sam. You really think that knife will do anything to me?" He scoffed and kept walking. "Please."

"Stop!" Sam said. Morpheus smirked and kept walking. Sam dove at him, stabbing the Shade with the knife, but as he had already pointed out, he wasn't a demon, so the knife had no effect on him. With the nod of his head, Morpheus sent Sam flying across the room. Removing the blade from his chest, the Shade sauntered over to Michelle.

"Wake up, beautiful."

9:20 pm

Mist was awoken by the sound of a man's voice. It was low and seductive, but dark and dangerous. Her green eyes fluttered open, blinking several times in trying to clear her vision. It was then that she realized that she couldn't move, she looked up into the face of Morpheus, who was looking at her in fascination.

She immediately searched the room for Sam and found him crumpled on the floor. He was still breathing, in fact, he was even conscious. His brown eyes fixed on her as she struggled to get to him. She looked at the Shade and glared.

"Let me go." She said, wishing that this was anything other than a Shade.

Morpheus' smirk grew as he watched her struggle against her shadowy binds. "No, my dear. I can't do that."

She lowered her voice so Sam wouldn't hear her. "Don't you hurt him. I swear I'll kill you myself."

"Him?" Morpheus sounded confused. "Why on earth would I want him? Not when I've got what I've been wanting for seventeen years."

What? She scrunched her brows. After a moment of thinking, it hit her. No. had she really been this stupid? All this time, it was her Morpheus was after, not Sam. She'd never once even toyed with the idea that the Shade had been after her. Her only concern was for her charge and keeping him safe. But this whole time, she'd been putting him in danger by being anywhere near him.

"No…"

"Yes, I'm afraid so my dear." He clapped his hands together and turned to Sam, who was trying to get up. "So, You've had your turn. Shall we start with the girl's torture?" He returned his gaze to Mist. He lifted a hand to her neck and ran his finger across it. Where his finger touched her skin, it felt like he'd dragged dry ice across her flesh, burning it with an intense cold. She bit back a scream as he grabbed her bare arm.

"_No_!" Sam started running towards her but Morpheus raised his hand, freezing Sam where he was. From the shadows in the corner of the room, two more Shades appeared on either side of Sam. Each grabbed an arm and held him in place. "Leave her alone!"

"Does that bother you, Sam?" Morpheus laughed. "Just you wait." He brought his lips to her neck and this time, she couldn't hold back the scream that ripped from her throat.

9:30 pm

The sound of her scream chilled Sam to the bone. It made him sick, being forced to watch as she was tortured. Every fiber of his being was lit up with rage as a tear escaped her eye. He fought with all his might to get out of the Shades' grasp, but no matter how much he tried, he couldn't get them to loosen their grip.

Morpheus removed his lips and smirked as she tried to catch her breath. For over an hour, Morpheus would burn her with his icy touch, leaving black marks where her skin looked torched. After growing bored with that, he picked up the knife Kayla had used on Sam and stabbed her arms with it. Nothing too fatal but enough to make her scream each time the blade punctured her skin. Then Shade dug the blade into the skin below her ribs, pulling it slowly and beginning to shred the skin. Her throat was on fire as her scream travelled out of the room and into the night sky. She unknowingly transferred some of her power into her scream; it was heard 12, 970 miles away in a small hut on the side of Mount Everest.

The man inside's head snapped up when he heard it. He sighed and snapped his fingers, dissipating the two women he'd conjured for his entertainment and got dressed. He snapped his fingers again, this time disappearing from his cozy little hole in the mountain, as he like to call it, and followed the scream.

xXx

Back in Michigan, Morpheus smiled in satisfaction as Mist's screams filled his ears. He loved the sound someone in pain. Deciding to give her a small break, he drove the blade deep into her stomach. Sam stopped for a moment, frozen as her head lolled to the side and blood spilled from her mouth. From where he was, Sam couldn't even see if she was breathing or not. Morpheus moved a strand of hair from her face and tucked it behind her ear took her head in his hands, lifting it so he could look at her.

"Release him." He told the two Shades holding Sam. "Take her upstairs. Resurrect her in ten minutes. Go!"

The Shades snapped into action, dragging her body across the floor and up the stairs. Morpheus turned to Sam and sighed. "They never last long. But luckily I have you to play with till she's awake." He walked over to the hunter and looked at him intently. "You're gonna be a fun one, aren't you?"

10:57 pm

Moments after snapping his fingers, he appeared inside a small church, in a tiny room. He sighed heavily when he saw her. Mist was lying on a bed, black marks covered her skin, along with large cuts and bruises. He could see that she was no longer breathing. He walked over to her, knelt next to her and placed his index and middle finger on her temple.

xXx

_Mist was standing in a large open field, it was all dried up with no signs of life anywhere. She looked around but found that she was alone. How odd that no one would be around. She began walking, passing no people, no animal or plants. Just desert. She walked until she came upon a large rock. It looked odd out here among the dead land. She walked around it and found a mirror on the other side. _

_As she passed by the mirror, she caught a glimpse of herself. She walked a few steps closer and looked. There she was, standing there looking back at her. But her reflection wore a long black cloak with the hood drawn up, covering the top half of her face. Her reflection had pale skin and long black hair. The figure in the mirror lifted her hands and pushed back their hood. _

_The woman had orange eyes that glowed like fire. Mist recognized them, her own eyes had turned that color a few times before, usually when she was using too much of her power. The woman raised her hands once more and pressed them against the glass. _

_"Touch the mirror," Her reflection said. Mist wanted to, but she kept her hands at her sides. She wasn't sure what it was, but there was something about this woman Mist didn't trust. _

_"No." Her reflection titled her head to the side in confusion. _

_"Sam is in danger." She repeated once more, as if that were plenty reason to touch the mirror. Mist shook her head, slowly backing away. The woman in the mirror's gaze tore from Mist's to something behind her. As Mist took another step back, she hit something. She turned around and looked into his face. _

_She was about to open her mouth, but he placed a finger over her mouth. "What are you doing here, Mist?"_

_"I don't know, I don't even know where 'here' is." She looked around. "Where am I?"_

_"You're in the wasteland." She was about to ask what the hell that was but he read her mind and answered her unspoken question. "This is where Guardians go to be recycled." _

_"What? Why am I here, I didn't do anything-"She stopped as the memories started rushing back to her. Morgan, the sweet southern bartender from Markston was actually Morpheus, the Shade. He'd tortured her. _

_"What happened with Morpheus?" He asked in a soft tone. _

_"He tortured me. He killed me." She saw his jaw clench. "G-" He covered her mouth with his hand, alarm in his eyes. _

_"Not my real name, Mist. There are other angels out there, and they could still be listening to you."_

_She nodded under his hand and he removed it, letting her continue. "What about Sam? What happens to him if I'm dead?"_

_He shook his head, sandy brown hair falling into his eyes as he reached into his pocket. "You're not dead." He pulled his hand out of his pocket; it was now holding a snickers bar. He bit into it and chewed a while before explaining himself, with a mouthful of chocolate. "You're not dead. Well, technically you are, but when have I ever been technical? This is where Guardians are sent to be recycled. Since you are still here, you have yet to be recycled."_

_"What about Sam?" She asked. "He needs me-"_

_"Mist, you need to focus on getting out of here, then you can help Sam."_

_She shook her head. "But Sam!" She said, unintentionally raising her voice. "He's defenseless against Morpheus! I don't have time to-"_

_"Then make time." He said, equally as loud as her. "Because if you can't get a hold of your powers, you won't find a way out of here, and you won't get back to Sam. Comprende?"_

_She nodded. "What do I need to do?"_

_He took another bite of his candy bar, chewed and swallowed before answering. "Pretty simple actually." He jabbed his finger into her shoulder. "You," Then he pointed to the mirror behind her. "Do what she says."_

_She furrowed her brows. "I don't think that's a good idea." Mist looked behind her at the mirror and found her reflection, the same cloaked figure watching her. Mist turned back to the man standing before her. "There's something about her- I don't know, she's dangerous, I tell that much."_

_He nodded sagely. Then took another bite of his candy bar, finishing it off. "Yeah, she's extremely dangerous. But she can get you back to Sam."_

_"How do you know?" She asked. Instead of answering, he extended his hand and waited for her to take it. Without a second thought, Mist took his hand. Together, they walked back to the mirror, back to chilling woman in it. _

_He let go of her hand and motioned her towards the mirror. Mist looked at woman in it and got chills. The woman's glowing orange eyes and it took everything she had not to run from the intensity of the woman's stare. She raised her hand up towards the mirror, and her opposite reflection did the same. But Mist stopped and pulled back her hand. She whirled around and ran into her old mentor's arms. She wrapped her arms around his neck, burying her face in the crook of it. He seemed surprised for a moment, but wrapped his arms around her waist. _

_"I'm scared."_

_They pulled apart and he smiled in understanding. "You know what, kiddo?" He took a quick glance at the mirror and looked back at her. "So am I." She had expected him to say something to make her feel better, and what he just said, definitely did not. Why would he tell her that? As if reading her mind, he chuckled lightly. "I respect you too much to lie to you." He took her hand in both of his and brought them to his lips. "Good luck."_

_She wanted to ask what she'd need the luck for, but decided she probably wouldn't like the answer. "Thanks G-" She caught herself and stopped from saying his name. She chuckled. "Thanks…Loki."_

_He nodded and she turned her green gaze to the mirror. The woman waited patiently as Mist brought her hands up to the mirror and laid her hands against it. She felt something pulling at her, like an invisible force was trying to pull her from the mirror as her hands got closer to her reflection's hands. She vaguely registered someone chanting in another language but she kept her gaze on her reflection. As soon as she made contact with the mirror, she felt her reflection reach through the mirror and grab her hands. A hot burning pain spread through her hands and up her arms. _

_Just as Mist was about to cry out from the burning pain, she locked eyes with the other woman. It was like her orange eyes were stripping Mist bare, digging through her mind and soul, picking through her innermost thoughts and emotions, hopes and desires. But she couldn't look away; she couldn't break the eye contact. The fire spread into her head, pushing out the blocks that Gabriel had set up, to keep her dangerous powers dormant, and to her core, where her power lay. _

_From somewhere in her mind, she heard something whisper, _

_ "Free…"_


	21. Reunited

11:48 pm

Mist's eyes shot open as the two Shades hovered over her. They looked at her and backed away quickly. Her normally green eyes were now orange as they flickered from one Shade to the other. She raised her hand and a bright orange light erupted from it, disintegrating the Shades where they stood. She stood up from the bed they'd laid her on and narrowed her eyes at the door, making it fly off its hinges. As she strode to the stairs, a long black cloak appeared out of nowhere and around her shoulders. As she turned down the hall, the roots of her brown hair began turning darker and darker until it was black. The black flowed down to cover the rest of her hair as it was freed of the braid it had been in. She pulled the hood of the cloak over her head and blew the basement door off of its hinges.

Morpheus had Sam pinned against the wall, he was digging into the wounds that Kayla had made. Both of their heads snapped up as she walked into the room. Morpheus had no time to defend himself as Sam stared with wide eyes as she lifted her hand and the same orange light came from her palm.

11:59 pm

When Sam opened his eyes, Morpheus was gone. The woman in the hooded cloak was gone and the church bell had just started ringing. He looked at his watch and his jaw dropped. It was midnight. He looked over at the wall where the unconscious demon lay. He ran to the wall, grabbing Ruby's knife as he went and drove it into the demon's heart. The circle on the wall turned into a raging black vortex as the clock gave its last ring. Sam was thrown backwards as a dozen or so figures came out of the wall.

Sam looked up as the vortex closed and his jaw dropped. Part of the ceiling, and the floors that were above it, was gone, blown away by the force of purgatory's doors being opened. As he stood up, Sam was almost knocked back down by a whole bunch of flying things that flew up and out of the church. They disappeared from sight in a matter of seconds.

"They sure didn't wanna stick around for the party, did they?" Sam's heart stopped. That voice could only belong to one person. He turned around to face his older brother. Dean now had a full beard covering his dirty face; his clothes were stained with blood, mud and a few other unidentifiable things. Sam and Dean stood there for a second; Sam slowly walked over to his brother and put a hand on his shoulder, as if to confirm that he was really there.

Dean wrapped his arms around his younger brother and held him tight. Sam did the same. Both fought the tears that were threatening to escape. Dean was the first to pull away, resting his hands on Sam's shoulders.

"Man, it's good to be back!" Dean said, making Sam smile.

"Dean-" Sam stopped upon seeing who'd come out with his brother. "Cas!" Sam walked over and hugged him too. Cas smiled as they pulled apart.

"It's good to see you Sam." Cas said, clapping a hand on the hunter's shoulder.

Sam's smile faded when he saw Azazel. "What-"

Azazel smirked. "I know, I look good, right? Especially for being in purgatory for six years." Sam couldn't tear his eyes from the demon. Every muscle in his body tensed as he watched Azazel looked around the room, his eyes resting momentarily on Kayla's dead body and then over at Dean. "Thanks for the ride, Dean. See you boys later."

With that, he disappeared. Sam looked at Dean in confusion. "Wh-"

Dean put a hand up, cutting off Sam. "We can talk about it later, Sammy."

Sam nodded and looked at Baykok, who was struggling to get up. Sam walked over to him and helped him up, clapping a hand on his shoulder when he was standing. "Thank you."

Baykok nodded. "Baykok thanks Sam. Now de spirits will not be angry with Baykok. Goodbye Sam." He walked out the door and up the stairs. Sam turned back to his brother and Cas and enveloped them in a hug. They remained like that for a while until something crossed his mind.

"Dean, are you okay to help me carry someone?" Sam asked, walking to the door. Castiel and Dean followed close behind.

xXx

After banishing Morpheus to hell, Mist had turned herself into fog and traveled back up the stairs. But she found that she couldn't hold that form for more than a few seconds at a time. She ended up in the chapel, in front of the first set of pews. There she collapsed and passed out. She'd used too much power and it was taking its toll on her. She fought to keep her eyes open, but unconsciousness won out in the end.

xXx

Azazel was about to walk out the doors of the chapel when a familiar scent crossed his nose. He stopped, a smile creeping onto his face as he walked past the many pews. He stopped when he reached the steps of the podium. Lying there on the floor next to the podium was a young woman Azazel had never forgotten about. She lay on her side, head resting on her outstretched arm, her back to Azazel.

"Well, well, well," Azazel said, walking closer to the unconscious girl on the floor. She looked much different than she had when he'd met her last time. Then she had brown waist-length hair and tanned skin, now she had pale skin and shoulder-length black hair that made her skin seem even paler. He knelt next to her and turned her from her side to her back. The demon raised a hand and pushed a strand of her black hair back from her face and tucked it behind her ear. As he pulled his hand back, hers whipped up and grabbed his wrist in an iron grip. He didn't even try to move, knowing that he wouldn't be able to. He wasn't sure what was happening to her, but he could sense that she was powerful right now- definitely more powerful than him.

Her eyes snapped open, startling him when they were dimly glowing orange instead of the green he'd been expecting. Her eyes found his face instantly and a low, dangerous growl emitted from her throat. A warning. She looked at his hand and back at him face in a less than a second.

"Azazel." Her voice was different; it almost sounded like a hiss. With that one word, his own name, chills were sent down his spine. "Not dead?"

Before he could answer, she released his wrist as tremors shook her body. Her hands flew to her stomach, where the pain must have been coming from. She turned onto her side and curled up into a ball as the roots of her ebony hair turned brown. Her normal brown color flowed down the length of her hair, replacing the black until all her hair was back to its own brown. At the same time, her pale skin returned to her olive toned complexion.

Azazel didn't move a muscle as her transformation started and finished. Once again, he rolled her from her side onto her back. He could no longer see her chest moving. He picked up her now limp hand and held it in both of his. He could sense that she was lingering on the brink of death. He thought back to that night twenty-nine years ago, the first and only time he'd ever seen her. He'd sensed her many of times when Sam had been near, but he never saw her again until tonight. He remembered the plans he had for this girl, and how they were interrupted.

He smiled as she caught a breath and groaned. Her eyes still closed, she raised her other hand and put it over Azazel's.

"Sam?"

The demon chuckled and shook his head. "Nope. Guess again."

That got her to open her eyes. They were green again. They widened when she saw just who was holding her hand. She took a ragged breath as her eyes flickered orange. Azazel dropped her hand. She scrunched her eyes and threw her head to the side as an ear-splitting scream tore from her throat.

When she stopped moving, Azazel closed his own eyes and tried to enter her mind. But he was, literally, thrown out. His body went flying back into one of the pews. From what little he saw in that pretty little head of hers, he gathered that Mist was fighting off whatever orange-eyed thing had taken control of her body.

He could hear three sets of footsteps going up the stairs and hurried back to the girl. "Why don't I help you out?" He entered her mind once more, this time he was prepared for the powerful force of energy that tried to slam him out. Once he'd finished, he pulled out from her mind and stood up. Her eyes fluttered open as he winked at her.

"You owe me one, beautiful." He disappeared as she fell unconscious again.

xXx

Sam, Dean and Cas had split up, searching the house for Michelle, Sam took the third floor, Cas the second and Dean took the chapel. Dean searched between the pews until he came to the first row. Lying there on the floor next to the podium was a young woman who fit Sam's description. Long brown hair and tan skin wearing a red shirt and jeans. There was blood spilling from her mouth and nose. Her bloodied tank top looked like someone had stabbed, sliced and diced her. And judging by the amount of blood on the floor around her, and the paleness of her skin, he'd say she had. Her jeans were splattered with blood, too.

"_Guys! I found her!_" He called. He knelt and put two fingers against her neck. "She's alive." He told Sam as he and Cas came closer. He heard Sam release a heavy breath and reminded himself to get the full story from him later. Sam tried to pick her up, but clutched his stomach in pain. "What's wrong?"

"It's nothing," Dean scoffed and moved Sam's hand. Blood was staining his shirt. "Cas, can you heal her?"

The angel narrowed his eyes at the unconscious girl on the floor. He took a breath as the realization hit him. No, this surely couldn't be…

"Cas!" He jumped and looked at Sam, only shaking his head.

"Nothing, Sam?" Dean retorted. "You're bleeding to death. Cas, help Sam, I'll carry her." Sam wanted to object, but he was just too tired. Cas took Sam's arm and put it around his shoulders and helped him to the doors where Sam told them the Impala was parked.

Dean slipped one arm under her shoulders and the other behind her knees. Ignoring the pain in his arm, he stood with the girl in his arms and followed Cas and Sam to the Impala. Sam was already in the backseat, his head leaning against the window. Castiel opened the door to the backseat and Dean put the girl next to Sam on the seat. He and Cas got into the front seat and Dean started her up.

As Dean drove, Cas looked back at the girl in the passenger's seat. The last time he'd seen her, she definitely didn't look like this. She was plain, ordinary, absolutely nothing special about her except for the fact that she was one of the most powerful beings ever created. His eyes flickered to Sam. He had moved to the center of the seat, closer to her, and was turned so he could face her. Castiel could tell, from the look on Sam's face as he put his arm around the girl's shoulders that he'd already fallen for her.

Dean didn't miss it either. Every few seconds, he'd look in the backseat through the rearview mirror to check on the two injured people. He smirked, knowing he'd give Sam hell about it later.


	22. Touched By An Angel

**This one's kinda long, but I couldn't figure out where to split the chapter to make it into two. Enjoy!**

* * *

Sam sat nervously in the waiting room, he'd already been looked over and stitched up by the doctor and was now waiting alone for Michelle to get out of surgery. Dean and Castiel had left after he'd told them to for the hundredth time to check into a hotel and clean up. People were starting to stare and they needed to be as inconspicuous as possible. Two dirty hobo-looking men did tend to attract attention. So they left to get cleaned up and change while Sam insisted he stay at the hospital and wait for Michelle to get out of surgery.

Sam was staring down into his cup of coffee when the doors opened and a doctor came out. He looked down at the clipboard. "Is anyone here for Michelle Matthews?" He called out. Sam's head snapped up at the mention of Michelle and he stood up, leaving his coffee on the seat next to him.

"Yeah," He walked over to the doctor, who introduced himself as Dr. Casting.

The doctor looked at him for a moment. "And what is your relationship with the patient?"

"I'm her boyfriend." The words came out of his mouth before he could stop them. He was just glad Dean wasn't there to make fun of him for it. "Sam."

"The surgery went alright," The man shook his head. "She suffered multiple lacerations and abrasions, not to mention the damage inflicted to her internal organs. She also sustained some serious burns across her chest and arms." He glanced down at the chart before continuing. "Of course she suffered severe blood loss from her injuries. Now, we gave her a blood transfusion so that'll help. She's severely dehydrated so we've got her hooked up to an IV."

"Can I see her?" Sam asked.

"Uh, yeah, but she won't be awake for a good hour or so." As the doctor talked, he led Sam down a few hallways. "She'll be a bit disoriented when she first wakes up, but that'll wear off after about five or ten minutes." They came upon room 171 and the doctor put his hand on the doorknob, but kept it closed. "Now, she may look worse than she is because of the bruising, but she's okay. Just so you're not too shocked when you see her." Sam nodded and thanked him. "Okay, if you have any more questions, the nurse's station in right around the corner."

Sam thanked him again and opened the door. When his eyes fell on Michelle, his heart stopped. She was laying there, her head to the side, her eyes closed. All over her arms, neck and chest, her skin could barely be seen through the bruises and bandages covering the burns. On her arms, there were bandages wrapped around the burns. Her heart monitor was beeping strong, but every once and while, she'd twitch a little.

Sam pulled one of the chairs from the small table over to the other side of the bed and sat down next to her. He took her bruised hand in his and watched as her eyebrows furrowed and relaxed, furrowed and relaxed.

"What are you dreaming about?" He mused aloud.

xXx

_…Beep_

_…Beep_

_…Beep_

It was morning now and Sam was sitting by her bed, still holding on to her hand. "She must have some kind of angel looking out for her." Dr. Casting had said. "It's almost as if her body has started healing on its own."

When Dean had returned his beard was gone, and he'd gotten a shower. And of course, he brought food. He handed Sam a bag and sat down at the table in the corner of the room. After ripping into his first burger, and moaning about how good it was, he slowed down and watched his brother as he watched the girl.

"So you gonna tell me what's going on with you two?"

Sam looked away from her and to his brother. "What? Nothing's going on." Dean raised his eyebrows and gave him a look. To which Sam sighed. "A few months ago, I was pretty messed up." He told Dean about his drinking, how he'd lost all hope of getting him back. He told him how Michelle found him, sobered him up and helped him get Dean back. How she'd check up on him to make sure he was okay. He explained about how she saved him from Kayla and how she was hunting the Shade that was after him, and how he turned out to be after her.

"Wow." Dean said. He'd long ago finished his meal and was listening intently. He nodded and a smirk covered his face. "And during which part did you start getting the hots for her?"

Sam shifted in his seat. "What? I do not-"

"Dude, you haven't let go of her hand since I got here." Dean stated.

"Shut up." Dean noted that he still didn't let go of her hand and his smirk grew as Sam mumbled, "Jerk."

"Bitch." Dean said. "Come on, how long?" Sam remained quiet, but a faint blush had worked its way up to his face. "Come on-"

"Dean." The tone of his voice indicated that he was finished talking about this. Dean nodded seriously and raised his hands up defensively.

"Okay," He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "But I do have one more question." Sam looked at him expectedly. "Does she know that you want to be the father of her children?"

Sam was about to tear into his brother when they were both surprised by Michelle. One moment, she was sleeping peacefully, the next, she bolted upright in the bed. Her green eyes were still closed, closed tight as if she were trying to keep from seeing something.

"Michelle?" She opened her eyes and was looking down, trying to catch her breath. She took a deep breath when something caught her eye. Sam's hand was covering her own. She looked up at him; his face was etched with worry.

"Are you okay?" He asked.

"Yeah, just…had a bad dream." She groaned as pain filled her head. "Why do I have a massive headache? And a massive everywhere-ache?" Sam chuckled as she sat up, rubbing her head. "Where am I?"

"The hospital." Sam said. "How are you feeling?"

She smiled. "Been better. What about you?"

"Got a few stitches, but nothing I haven't had before." She nodded in understanding. After a short pause, Dean cleared his throat, reminding Sam he was there. "Oh! Michelle, this is my brother, Dean." She turned her head towards the other male in the room and smiled. He got up and walked to her bedside.

"Hey, Sam told me how you helped him get me back." He extended his hand to her. She shook it and smiled. He looked down for a moment before meeting her eyes. "I just wanted to say thanks."

"Of course."

"If you don't mind me asking, why did you help?" Dean asked. He could feel Sam's confused face looking at him, but he ignored it, awaiting her answer.

She looked down at her hands, which were fiddling with her hospital bracelet. "I don't know. I guess, when I first saw Sam, he looked so lost and hopeless. I just felt like I had to help."

Dean nodded and looked over at Sam, who was clearly giving him the 'get out of here' look. "Well," Dean said. "I'm gonna go and, uh, see where Cas got off to." He walked out of the room and stopped at the door, turning to look at Michelle. "Thanks again."

xXx

"So," Mist said. "What happened?"

Sam scrunched his brows together. "You don't remember?"

"Well," She looked up, trying to recall the events of the previous night. "I remember getting stabbed. Then I was lying here." That wasn't exactly true. She remembered seeing her old mentor in that desert, touching the mirror and getting pulled into it by the woman with pale skin and black hair and glowing orange eyes.

Sam went on to tell what had happened with the Shade and the mysterious woman that had killed him. When Sam described her, Mist's heart nearly stopped. It was the same woman she'd seen in the mirror. Sam told her that the ceremony had worked, but that, in able to get to the door on time; Dean had to enlist the help of the demon, Azazel, and nine Harpies. She wasn't sure which one worried her the most. Azazel was cunning, he always had a plan and it would be disastrous. But the harpies hadn't been topside since the ancient Greeks walked the earth.

"Wow." She said, thinking about all he'd told her.

"Yeah." Sam commented. "I had a question for you."

"Shoot."

"Before Baykok went into purgatory," He began. "He mentioned that something had attached itself to me. Some kind of powerful entity. He said it had been with me my whole life; existing on another plane."

As Sam went on, Mist felt her heart stop, then speed up, stomach drop and blood run cold all at the same time. There was no way Baykok could've sensed her-

"Michelle?" Sam's concerned voice brought her back to reality. She looked back at him, but he wasn't looking at her, he was looking up at the heart monitor, which had speed up considerably. "I'll get the nurse." He moved to push the 'Call' button but Mist grabbed his hand, wincing at the pain of moving her burned arm.

"I'm fine." He looked at her, unsure. "I promise. I just got a little worried about the harpies being set loose, that's all. But to answer your question, no, sorry Sam. I've never heard of anything like that." She faked concentration as she scrunched her brows together. "But I'll definitely look into it."

"Thanks." After that, the conversation was halted. She could tell he was worried for her and didn't want to leave, but she knew he needed to be with Dean right now. They had a lot to talk about.

Mist looked up at Sam and finally broke the silence. "So, you two gonna hit the road again?"

"No," She looked up in surprise. "At least not yet. Not until you've healed up."

She smiled and looked down at her body. "That's gonna take a while."

"No, actually, it won't." She looked at him curiously, wondering where he was going with this. "Remember what I said about Castiel? About him being an angel?"

"Yeah," She didn't like where this was going.

"Well, he's rested up and he's got some of his power back," He said. "He's gonna heal you."

Her heart pounded in her ears as her stomach lurched. This wasn't good.

Dean re-entered the room with Castiel behind him. He had dark brown hair and blue eyes that seemed to pierce through her. Her heart monitor speed up again as he came nearer. He was an angel and he was, if he hadn't already, going to figure out what she was. He'd never sensed her before because she'd been cloaked from any and all supernatural creatures. She'd be recycled for sure.

Sam's brows furrowed and he took her hand. "Michelle? Are you okay? Should I get the nurse?" She opened her mouth and tried to say no, but she couldn't find her voice. Her gaze was locked with Castiel's and she couldn't tear away from him.

"I believe she's just nervous. I _am_ an angel, kind of a big deal." Castiel said as he grinned, not breaking eye contact. "Right, Michelle?" She closed her mouth, swallowed and nodded weakly.

"Oh," Sam seemed to buy it. He nodded and gave her hand a gentle squeeze. "Well, don't worry, Cas is great. And he's gonna fix you up."

Before Mist had a chance to say anything, Castiel broke in. "I'm going to need complete concentration, you two should wait outside." Dean nodded and walked to the door, pausing at it when Sam didn't come.

The younger Winchester stayed where he was and smiled at Mist. "I'll be outside." She nodded as he and Dean left the room and closed the door behind them.

Mist turned to the angel standing before her and braced herself for his wrath.

But what she got was far from wrath. Castiel walked over to the side of the bed and hugged her. She remained stiff as he laughed. What was going on?

"Wow." He said, pulling back. His smile was still in place. "It's been a very long time, hasn't it, Mist? Or- Michelle. You've changed since I last saw you. You grew up a little."

Her jaw dropped. How- "How do you know my name?" It would've made sense that he knew she was a Guardian, but how would he know her if she'd never seen him before?

He chuckled. "You don't remember me? Well, I suppose that makes sense, you only a few hours old when I last saw you." He chuckled at her confused look. "I'll give you a hint. You're Mist, the very first Guardian. You were created by," He counted on his fingers each name. "Joshua, Michael, and the third angel was kept a secret…" Her eyes widened.

"I know who the third angel is." He said. "We were good friends once."

"Who-"

He smiled. "Now you know I can't tell you that."

xXx

"They've been in there a while." Sam commented. He was leaning against the door frame to Michelle's room. Dean, who was leaning up against the opposite wall of the hallway, smirked.

"Dude, you got it bad," Dean said to him.

"What are you talking about?" Sam asked, taking his attention from the closed door and looking at Dean.

"You know what," Dean said smiling at his love-struck brother. "You like her."

"She's a good hunter," Sam said shrugging and hiding his face. But being brothers, Dean knew he was hiding the blush that had crept onto his face.

"No, I mean you like her like her," He replied, "Like you wanna-"

"I'm just worried about her, Dean." Sam interrupted whatever gross remark Dean was about to say while glancing at the door. "And just because I'm worried about her, it doesn't mean I wanna get into her pants."

"I know," Dean said seriously. But the seriousness didn't stay long. "But you should see yourself get all googlie eyed around her." Dean responded. "Plus there was that cute little lie you told to the doctors about you being her boyfriend."

Sam's face shot up, looking very red, which only made Dean's grin grow. "How'd you-" He sighed. "Dr. Casting told you."

"Nope." Sam titled his head in confusion. "You just did."

xXx

"Castiel-"

"Please, Cas. That's what my friends call me." He reached over and poked her nose, making a 'boop' sound as he did. "And you're my friend."

"Um, thanks, Cas." She took a breath. "Listen, I don't think you can heal me. This was done by a-"

"A Shade. I know, Sam told me." He reached over to the bandage on her upper arm and began to unwrap it. Once it was gone, both Mist and Castiel's eyes went wide. She touched her arm to make sure her eyes weren't fooling her. She unwrapped the bandages from her other arm and her chest. Her burns were gone.

She looked up at him. "Did you…?" The angel shook his head. "Then how?"

"I don't know." He said. When he looked up at her, his eyes widened.

"What?" She looked down at her hands and her eyes grew too. Her bruises and cuts were all disappearing. She wasn't healing herself, and Cas hadn't touched her yet.

He shook his head. "Nothing,"

Mist furrowed her brow. "Cas, what is it?" She titled her head to the side in confusion. "Do you-." A knock on the door interrupted him. She looked to Cas, who was now picking at the blanket, and looked at him worriedly.

"Cas, what are you doing?"

"The tag says 'thread count 1000'." He responded casually. "I highly doubt there's that many."

"Cas?" She leaned over and touched his shoulder. "Cas." He looked up. "We're going to tell them you healed me, okay?"

He shifted uneasily. "I-I don't think I can. I don't like lying because eventually people find out and then there's conflict and I don't like conflict."

"Cas," He stopped his blabbering. "Please?"

"No. I won't lie to my friends." Her hopes fell.

"But that doesn't mean you have to tell them though, right?" She suggested, this was her last hope. He seemed to be fighting with the decision in his mind.

"No, I suppose not." The knocking on the door continued. Castiel stood up and walked to the window, looking out at the parking lot. She could tell her was about to leave.

She sat up a little straighter. "Where are you going?"

"I'm going to find Meg." The sound of flapping wings was heard as he disappeared. There was another knock on the door and this time, it was followed by Sam and Dean entering the room. Sam's face brightened upon seeing Michelle, unscathed.

"You look better." He commented.

"I feel better." Mist let out a breath she didn't know she'd been holding.

"Where's Cas?" Dean asked, looking around the room.

"He said he was going to find…Meg?" She made it sound like a question, since she wasn't supposed to know who Meg was. Dean nodded, looking a bit peeved. Sam glanced at his brother and then nodded towards the door. Dean, smirking, nodded

"Well," Dean said, trying, but failing miserably, to hide the smile on his face. "I'm gonna go get a cup of coffee." He left the room, leaving Sam and Mist alone.

She giggled nervously as he watched her for the longest time, making her curious as to what he was thinking. Before realizing what she'd done, Mist caught a piece of what he was thinking. _If Dean ever found out I love her- _Mist instantly pulled out of his thoughts. She was ashamed that she'd invaded his thoughts without even meaning to. She never read his thoughts unless it was absolutely necessary. But what troubled her the most, was what she'd heard. Sam liked her? That couldn't be, Guardians and their charges were not allowed to be together. Ever. It was one of the first things Guardians were taught.

"You should get back to Dean." It nearly broke her heart, seeing his face fall. "You just got him back and I expect you two have got a lot of catching up to do."

"Are you sure?" Sam asked. "I'll stay here with you, I don't mind."

She smiled at him. "No, it's fine, thank you though."

He nodded. "Yeah." He took a few steps towards the door and stopped. He took a breath and came back to her side, leaning his hand on the bed above her head. "Thank you. For helping me get my brother back."

With that, he leaned down and crushed his lips against hers. The kiss was both passionate and gentle at the same time; she kissed him back just as eagerly. She felt her eyes burn slightly, like when you kept them open without blinking for too long. Mist knew if she were to open her eyes right now, they'd probably be glowing orange. She could feel her power rising inside and her rational mind kicked in, breaking the kiss. She laid a hand firmly against his chest and pushed lightly. What was she doing?

He couldn't help but feel a little hurt, but smiled none the less. "Keep in touch, okay?" He asked.

"Of course." She took a deep breath as he smiled at her and walked out of the room.

It didn't mean anything. That's what she kept telling herself. It didn't mean anything. It was just an innocent, 'thank you' kiss. That was all. But she knew, as well as he, that the seeds had been planted, and they were helpless to resist them.

* * *

**Well, here we are. Only one more chapter to go until Sam's Guardian is done! **


	23. Last But Not Least

**Oh my, here we are, the last chapter of Sam's Guardian! It's short I know, but I had to add it in! Enjoy!**

* * *

Mist was putting on her clothes, the ones Sam had brought from her hummer, when someone knocked on the door.

"Just a minute." She said. She zipped up her jeans and slipped on a black tank top. "Come in."

The door opened as Mist plopped down on the hospital bed and took out a pair of hiking boots from her duffel bag and pulled them onto her sock-clad feet. As he closed the door behind him, he walked into the room and sat down in the chair across from her. She finished tying her shoelaces and looked up at Dr. Casting.

"That was a close call." He said. She nodded as he snapped his fingers and changed back into himself. He looked normal now, with his dirty blond hair that hung a couple of inches above his shoulders, hazel eyes and a crocked smile that hung from his handsome face. "You need to be more careful now, kiddo. You've got yourself a Shade stalker."

"I know." She said honestly. She sat crisscross on the bed as another thought came to her. "Hey, who healed me?"

He sighed. "I don't know Mist. But I'm gonna look into it."

"How am I gonna do this?" She asked him, hopelessly. "How am I supposed to watch over Sam and fend off a Shade at the same time?"

"And control your abilities." She looked at him blankly. "You forgot your powers," He reminded her. "You've also got to keep a closer reign on your magic."

She scrunched her brows. "Why?"

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "'Why?' I'll tell you why. Those blocks I put up in your mind? Separating you from your uncontrollable power? It's abiit,ido, borta [1]. Gone. They were blown to smithereens when you escaped the wasteland. Leaving your uncontrolled abilities free." When he said 'free' it sparked a memory. Not so much a memory as a feeling. She vaguely remembered hearing someone whisper that in the wasteland. He pointed at her. "Now _you _need be even more careful. We don't know what kind of power is running around up there," He tapped her temple. "Unrestrained. But, I'm gonna find out."

"How?"

"I'm gonna find the angels that created you." She raised a brow, making him laugh. "Hey, that's _my_ 'are you serious' face. You know, I think I may have rubbed off on you a little too much."

She ignored his comment and made a disbelieving face. "So, you're going to find Michael and Joshua and the mysterious third angel? Michael is in Lucifer's cage, Joshua is- if you'll pardon the pun- god knows where, and the mysterious third angel is just that, a mystery."

She wanted to tell him Castiel knew the angel, but something inside her told her not to. She felt bad about hiding this from him, but there was a reason the third angel was kept a secret, and even though _she_ didn't know why, apparently God did.

"Well, obviously I can't get to Michael, but Joshua is still out there, and hopefully so is mystery angel number three."

"Well," She said. "If anyone could do it, it's you Loki."

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a candy bar. He opened it and took a bite out of it. "Forget Loki." He said, more to himself than to her. When he did look at her, a smile lit up his face. "I think it's time I made a comeback."

"Okay," She smiled too. "Gabriel."

* * *

**[1] ****a****biit, ido and borta means 'gone' in Latin, Spanish and Swedish**

**XOXO to all my readers! But never fear, I will be starting a new story in a few days so be on the lookout! **


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